A Terrible Fate
by Iamareadingaddict
Summary: Percy had really thought that he might get a break. How naive he was. The scars from the past two wars and his little side trip through Tartarus were still fresh, and he didn't know if he would ever get over them. Of course, this new world he had been thrown into wasn't helping matters much. Apparently, he had yet another evil grandfather. Further description inside
1. Description

A long time ago, before the first Wizarding War even officially started, Tom Marvolo Riddle still existed. He was still alive then, and what's more than that, he was just like anybody else. But that was before all the bloodshed and the tears, before Tom's soul was so utterly consumed with hatred, and before Lord Voldemort was born.

Now, years later, Tom's legacy lives on unknown to anybody in the wizarding world.

Until now.

Percy and his friends had just recently emerged victorious in their battle against Gaea. It was fierce, and by no means came without losses, but the world was safe. And Percy supposed, in the end, that was what truly mattered.

They thought it was all over. But now, not even a month later, Gandalf shows up at Percy's door in the middle of the night. And apparently, he has another evil grandfather. Why not?

Percy doesn't know why the Fates seem to hate him or why they brought him to this strange group of people. All he knew was that people were in danger... again. And he had to help save them... again.

Looks like he doesn't get a break after all.


	2. Chapter 1

Harry didn't know what to think when they were called down to join the Order meeting in the kitchen. For days he and his friends had been trying to convince Mrs. Weasley to allow them to attend the meetings and she had always said no. But now here they were, all gaping and stunned into silence because of the pure casualness and nonchalance of the question they had been waiting to hear.

"Well?", she said impatiently.

It was very clear that Mrs. Weasley still was not a fan of this plan of action and she made it so with her tapping foot and sour expression.

Thankfully, her words were all that was needed to snap the six of them out of their reverie.

"Uh... Wha- I mean- Yes, sure, definitely we're coming", Ron stammered out, grinning widely to his siblings and friends around him as he did.

 _They were finally getting some information!_

All seven witches and wizards lead by a still cross Mrs Weasley quickly made their way down the stairs and into the kitchen at the end of the hall which served as their meeting room.

The air in the room when they walked in was so thick with tension they could have cut it with a knife. Under any other circumstances, Harry would have thought that this was because of one of the quite frequent arguments between the members of the Order. But this time he got the distinct impression that this was not the case. Everybody, even his recently discovered godfather Sirius, had serious expressions on their face.

It seemed he wasn't the only of their little group to notice it either.

"What is it? What's wrong?", Hermione asked, the worry in her voice betraying her feelings.

Remus offered her a weak smile, but all the others around the table simply looked up at them with grim expressions on their faces.

Anger began to bubble up inside of Harry the longer the silence lasted. They had been called here so that they could finally get some answers. And here they finally were, and nobody was telling them anything!

His friends must have seen his temper building because one of the twins broke the heavy silence before Harry could explode on them.

"So? What's going on? Are we going to start this meeting or are we just going to stare at each other all night?", Fred (or maybe George?) said with a grin. The smile didn't reach his eyes, and Harry could tell that he was none-too-pleased with the lack of information as well. For some reason, that little observation made Harry feel slightly better. Slightly.

Sirius cast him an apologetic look before replying.

"Dumbledore's called an immediate emergency meeting of the Order. He wouldn't tell any of us what it was about, but he said to include everybody".

Mrs Weasley made an irritated sound from where she had sat down at the table but thankfully said nothing. This had obviously been the topic that they had been arguing about before they had arrived.

Harry's expression hardened at the mention of Dumbledore. He wasn't very happy with the old headmaster at the moment. Everything had been done without Harry's knowledge. Everybody was involved but him, and Dumbledore was at the center of it all.

"So where is he?", Harry asked, his voice tight.

Sirius opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the loud CRACK from Dumbledore himself apparating into the room.

All attention was immediately on the headmaster and his unusually grim expression.

He sat down silently at his seat at the head of the table and clasped his thin hands on the table as he always did before fixing them all with his startling gaze and beginning to speak.

"As you all know, last year, Voldemort came to power once again".

Several people flinched slightly from the use of You-Know-Who's name, but all Harry could do was frown sadly as he remembered the events of the tournament that had taken place last year.

"In preparation for the inevitable battle, I have been doing extensive research into anything and everything that might help us. Including looking over the events of the last war".

Several of the members who had been there at that time too gained saddened expressions. Particularly Sirius and Remus. They never had entirely gotten over the loss of James and Lily.

"Particularly one operation that we had tried towards the beginning...".

Dumbledore shot Sirius and Remus a look and the former's face hardened while the latter simply shook his head and ran a hand down his face sadly.

"You can't seriously be bringing this up now, Albus", Sirius said, his voice tight and betraying no emotion.

"James and Lily were wracked with guilt because of the events of that night until the day they died", Remus said tiredly.

Harry's attention immediately snapped to the two.

"What happened? What about my parents?".

They shared a look before looking towards Dumbledore pleadingly.

"Harry, you have heard the basic story of why Voldemort had come to Godric's Hollow that night, but I regret to tell you that while what you had been told was true, it was not the whole story".

 _Okay. Now he was confused. Voldemort came, murdered his parents in cold blood, tried to murder him, failed, and was left as scattered pieces of a soul with no body up until last year. How much more could there be?_

"Harry,", Dumbledore started kindly, fixing him with the typical sympathetic look, "I know you might find this hard to believe, but Voldemort was not always like the way he is now. For most of the war, he did not insist that his followers call him 'Lord Voldemort' as he does now. That was one of his names, yes, but at that time, he was still just Tom. Tom was an extremist, and yet he was not yet the mass-murdering monster that he is now. As is the unfortunate case with most criminals, a very traumatic event occurred to make him that way".

Harry looked around at the few friendly faces that he recognized among the Order. No doubt many of them had been there at that time, but there were only three that he cared about. Dumbledore- as he was the one explaining what had happened- and Sirius and Remus.

As he scanned those faces around the table for their reaction to what Dumbledore had said, he saw one emotion that he never thought he'd see: guilt.

The Order or the Phoenix felt guilty about what had happened. _Regretful_ even. The shock in the fact that they could ever feel such emotions in regards to attacks against Voldemort alone was enough to keep him silent and listening.

"I saw what my old student, Tom, was becoming, and I knew that I had to stop him once and for all before it could escalate beyond what either of us could control".

Everybody was on the edge of their seats, even those who had been there. They had never considered how it was from Dumbledore's point of view.

"I had an idea. It was terrible, but if it had worked it would have won us the war before it even ever truly started. What happened was entirely my fault".

Dumbledore held up a hand the silence the protests that were about to escape certain members of the Order and continued.

"In the very beginning it became known to us that Tom had gotten married and had a daughter who, at the time, was just five years old. He cared about them very deeply, and it was one of the only weaknesses he ever showed".

Harry had a hard time believing that.

 _Voldemort? Loving someone? Someone loving_ _ **Voldemort?**_

It just seemed impossible.

"I thought that if we could get to his wife and daughter, to hold them and use them to draw him out so that he could be arrested properly, it would work".

"That's horrible!", Mrs Weasley cried.

Harry couldn't help but silently agree with her.

Such a plan is exactly what Voldemort would have done. They couldn't stoop to his level. They were the light, not the moral grey area!

"One day, Tom was away, leaving his wife and daughter in the house where they lived. Two members of the Order went in to try and take them while he was unaware, but something went wrong".

 _Who were these two Order members? They should have known better than to agree to a plan like that._

Harry looked around at all the members sitting around the table, but he didn't see anybody who looked overwhelmingly guilty. Sure, they all looked regretful of the plan in general, but nobody who looked like they had actually been there.

"They went in, and there was a battle. We should have known that Olivia Riddle would be good with magic, after all, Tom had married her. But we underestimated them, and it proved to be deadly. Nobody but them knew what exactly happened that night, but Olivia Riddle died, and somehow Tom was able to get wind of the plan and show up himself, scaring the two members off before they could take his daughter. It was all terribly underhanded".

"Wh-who were the two members to do this?", Harry asked, in too much shock to really focus on what he was saying.

 _How could they do this? They killed Voldemort's family just as he had killed Harry's. No, they had done it_ _ **first**_ _!_

Sirius and Remus shared a look and seemed to have a silent debate. Finally, Remus turned back around to face Harry and spoke in his usual quiet voice.

"It was James and Lily Potter, Harry. Your parents".

Harry didn't want to believe it. He had never really met his parents, but all his life he had been told about how courageous they were. How good they were. He just couldn't believe that they would do something like this. He just couldn't.

 _'But they had'_ , a little voice inside his head whispered.

Harry slowly shook his head, and seeing this, Sirius moved ever-so-slightly closer to him at the table and squeezed his arm in support.

Harry was grateful to his godfather, but far from being able to show it.

As if not noticing the crisis that Harry was having on the other side of the table, Dumbledore continued his tale.

"The girl's name was Salina. Salina Riddle. Though now she goes by a different name".

The rest of the Order sat forward in their chairs, eager to hear what had become of Voldemort's daughter.

"Upon discovering his wife's death, I suspect Tom became overcome with grief. He handpicked a rather old, pure-blooded family and told them to flee the country with his daughter. He wanted them to keep her far away from the conflict. Tom Riddle truly died that night, and Lord Voldemort took his place".

There was a heavy silence in the room as they all took in what exactly that meant.

"So you're saying that _we_ created the monster? _We_ created Lord Voldemort?", Hermione asked, speaking up for the first time since the meeting started.

Nobody replied, and that was all the answer she needed.

"What happened to the daughter, the poor girl?", Mrs Weasley asked.

"This was at the very beginning of the conflict, as you know. The rest is history. 15 years later, the prophecy is heard, Harry is born at the end of July, and Voldemort finally decides to get his revenge against your parents. Voldemort most likely just went there that night to kill you and your mother, to leave James the way your parents had left him, but I suspect he got in the way, he was a Gryffindor after all".

That drew a few fond smiles from those that knew him, but all it did for Harry was bring back all the anger and sadness that he always felt whenever he thought of his parents' death.

The thoughts of Voldemort's own family and his parents' actions were cast out of his mind as if they had never been there.

 _Of course his parents had done the right thing. This was Lord Voldemort they were talking about. Murderer of thousands. Including his parents! He didn't deserve such happiness as a family._

As he looked around the room, he could see the unfocused eyes and grim sets of mouths that told him that all the others were undergoing similar battles with themselves. They all seemed to have arrived at the same conclusion. All of them but three: Dumbledore, Sirius, and Remus were all looking around the room in slight disappointment as they saw that hearing Voldemort's backstory had done nothing to change people's opinions of him.

"And what about his daughter? Sally was it? Does she know what's going on? Does she know she has magic in general?", Hermione asked, shooting off questions rapid fire now as she had gathered her thoughts. Harry could practically see the wheels turning inside of her head.

"No", Dumbledore started, causing all murmuring that had broken out in the room to hush, "I do not believe that she knows much of anything. Once she was in America, it was naturally harder for us to gather information on her. Not to mention that we had other more... pressing matters to devote ourselves to".

He was, of course, referring to Lord Voldemort's initial rise to power as the madman he is now.

"What we do know of her life is this: not too many years after this incident, the pure blooded family that she had been given to died in a tragic plane crash, and she was then handed off to their estranged brother. He later died of lung cancer just a few weeks after she turned 18, and she was left on her own. No details are known beyond this of her life at all, and it was only recently discovered that she has had a son".

"Is she magical?", an Order member that Harry didn't know called out.

"No", Dumbledore replied, causing some muttering to break out. "She is a squib. Her son, on the other hand, appears to have a great deal of magical potential. He will be very powerful indeed. Just as Tom was".

The muttering increased to a muffled roar in the room, and looking around it, Harry could tell that most of them were thinking along the same lines he was.

 _He'll be evil. Just like Lord Voldemort._

Dumbledore allowed a bit more time for all of that information to sink in before he spoke again.

"The boy is now 17 years old. And I believe that it goes without saying that he must be brought in and protected. Since Sally is a squib, I don't believe that Voldemort will try and gain her as an ally. Her son, however, is a different story. His record is very typical of those with powerful magical ability, and we must get to the boy before Voldemort does. If he is allowed to get to his grandson and bring him up in his image, it just might be the weight that tips the scales in the war".

Harry felt like there was a heavy lead ball that had just settled in his chest.

 _Voldemort's grandson? Here?!_

NO. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, _no_.

He would not, _could_ not accept that. The family of the man who killed his parents. The boy held the blood of the murderer of thousands of innocent witches, wizards, and muggles! How could they let him live much less stay in the same house as the Order? The same house that was supposed to be one of the only safe places in the world for Harry to stay!

His thought processes must have shown on his face clear as day, because Sirius almost immediately placed a calming hand on his shoulder. He took a deep, calming breath and was only just able to contain himself from saying or doing something that he was sure to regret later. Instead, he settled for glaring at Dumbledore for all he was worth; all his anger and frustration for the elderly headmaster bubbling up and mixing with his shock and anger from more recent developments. He couldn't believe what was happening right now, and yet, here it was in undeniable proof right before his eyes.

He glanced a few seats away from him and was able to find at least a little comfort in the fact that Ron looked just as, if not more, angry than he did. Hermione looked angry too, but her eyes were slightly unfocused, and her face had gained that expression that Harry recognised to be the one she made when she was thinking really hard about something. He smiled slightly at their reactions. Some things would never change. At least he could always rely on his friends to have his back.

Remus, ever the level-headed one, was the first one to recover from that overload of shocking information and move on to the next topic of concern.

"When?".

His vague question drew a few confused faces, so he cleared his throat from the sudden thickness that had filled it and asked his question in more detail.

"When are we going to pick him up? Where are we picking him up _from_ for that matter?".

The questions hushed the murmurs that had buzzing around the room since the sudden bomb drop of information as everybody sat forward quiet and attentive to hear the answer.

Dumbledore merely smiled approvingly at his friend and former student before sweeping his piercing gaze over the group gathered before him.

"The boy has no knowledge of his magical abilities. We will need to bring him in as soon as possible and try to do all we can to bring him up to speed. He is 17 years old, so for obvious reasons we can't put him in with the first years. Yet, he is not yet advanced enough to join in with those of his age. I propose that we tutor him for the week leading up until school begins and have him join the 5th years along with Harry here. As for your first question, the boy and his mother are known to live in an apartment somewhere in Manhattan, New York City, America".

Harry was so beyond shock and anger right now it was ridiculous. The entire situation was actually almost even funny. Of course Voldemort's grandson would join him in his year. With his luck the boy would already have joined with his grandfather and this will be part of his grand plot to kill him.

Harry just sat there, in stunned silence. Listening, but not ever really hearing anything.

"So if there is nothing else?...", Dumbledore asked, looking around the room and waiting for more questions from any of the members of the Order patiently. But it seemed they were all in a similar state as Harry, completely shocked, so nobody said anything.

"Good. Sirius, Remus. If you would be so kind?".

They nodded numbly and joined Dumbledore as he swept out the door in his typical dramatic fashion.

There was complete silence in the meeting room as their footsteps retreated down the hallway soon followed by the CRACK of apparation as the three adults left.

"W-well then, I believe that that concludes this evening's meeting. Who would like some dinner?", Mrs Weasley said, breaking the silence and offering a wide smile, albeit somewhat shaky.

A few offered weak smiles of their own, but most just nodded silently, still in too much shock to reply properly.


	3. Chapter 2

It had been three weeks since the end of the Second Giant War.

Percy had been told that time was supposed to heal all wounds. But he still didn't feel any better.

He figured that after a little while, the nightmares and flashbacks would stop, and he'd be able to continue on with his life. But unfortunately for him, there was no sign of that happening for him any time soon.

Which led him to here and now, back in his mom's apartment, hoping that maybe a change of scenery would help push back the nightmares and memories.

He, per his usual bad luck, had had no luck so far with this plan.

Which was why he, at 10 o'clock at night, was currently sitting up in his bed, alone, and afraid to go to sleep.

The soothing sound of gears turning and faintly whirring machinery along with the subtle click of metal was his only company.

He had to admit as he stared down at the faint glow his bronze arm let off in the darkness, Leo had done a fantastic job.

He had lost the lower half of his right arm in the final battle against Gaea. Greek fire was potent stuff. How the monster army had gotten ahold of it was still a mystery. But they had used it as part of _Gaea's Last Revenge_ as it was now called. It still boiled his blood to think about it.

 _Flashback:_

 _They had attacked the infirmary._

 _There was a little girl, a daughter of Apollo, who was helping her siblings with treating the wounded. She couldn't have been more than 12 years old._

 _He had been helping out while their army finished off the last of the monster army when it happened._

 _The infirmary was burning, he couldn't see much beyond the smoke, but thankfully it wasn't a direct hit, and one of the photo kinetic children of Apollo had lit up the place so they were able to evacuate the wounded. They got everybody out, and he was standing next to Will Solace doing a head count when he saw it._

 _A bright flash of blond hair, slightly dirtied with soot. It was the little girl, Claire, Will's newest and youngest little sister._

 _She was still in there, laying on the floor, crying and clutching her ankle that was twisted at an angle that was most certainly_ _ **not**_ _natural._

 _The building was beginning to creak and groan, the burnt wood not being able to hold up the rest of the building's weight._

 _Before he knew what he was doing, he had dashed into the still-burning building, ignoring the shouts of protest from behind him._

 _The green fire devoured everything in its path. The most dangerous substance known to mortal, demigod, and god alike._

 _He picked her up bridal style, hardened and determined sea-green eyes meeting tearful sky-blue ones. She hung around his neck, trembling with fear and tears running down her face from the pain._

 _There was a gods-awfully loud crack, and then everything was coming down around them._

 _He wasn't moving fast enough. He wouldn't make it._

 _Unfortunate flashbacks to his time when he fell into Tartarus flashed before his eyes, and his heart began to race in residual fear._

 _Desperation. Another time with another last glimpse of sunlight._

 _He wouldn't make it, but the girl in his arms could._

 _In a last ditch effort, he threw the little girl in his arms as far as he could towards her siblings and the square of sunlight just as the rest of the building came down around him._

 _From there all he knew was green flames and pain._

 _His right arm was pinned, the destructive fire eating its way through the flesh with no mercy, slowly making its way up his arm and beginning to devour his right side._

 _He screamed until he couldn't anymore. And then he kept trying._

 _Blessed blackness couldn't come for him fast enough._

 _Flashback End:_

He gasped. His breath shuddering as it exited his lips.

The celestial bronze arm clenched into a fist subconsciously, and he reveled in the subtle intricacies of the machine. It was one of the most beautiful things he owned.

He was jolted out of his semi-conscious daze by a loud CRACK that came from the living room. He was immediately alert.

He jumped out of his bed where he hadn't even been really sleeping, thankful for the fact that he had decided to not even bother getting changed for bed. He was still wearing the grey sweatpants and long sleeved black shirt that he had been lounging around the house in the day before. He threw on a hoodie to be safe and made his way around his room to all the various places that he had hidden weapons should he need them.

In under five seconds he was ready, all of his back-up knives were strapped into place, and he had a cautious hand on Riptide which had appeared in his pocket.

Creeping forward stealthily with bare feet, he made his way towards the door, pressing his ear against it to listen.

Now, he's not exactly the master of stealth or anything, but even _he_ knows that when you break into someone's house you at least _try_ to be quiet. But apparently, whoever was out there now, didn't get the memo. He heard the sound of the living room lamp being knocked over and shattering on the floor, quickly followed by a few muffled curses in what sounded like a British accent. Next came the sound of scuffling and drawers opening. He used the noise and their seeming distraction to slip out of his room and make his way into the kitchen where he last heard them.

Sticking to the shadows, he employed every technique and stretched out every sense he had ever picked up in his demigod life. Sensing the water in the body of the intruders, he could tell that there were three of them, male judging by the size of them. There was one in the kitchen, the one rifling through the drawers. He was separated from his companions, so Percy chose that moment to strike.

Lunging forward out of the shadows of the doorway of the room, he grabbed the man with his real arm around his throat and pressed one of his smaller knives against his jugular, all before the man could say or do anything.

"If you value your life you won't do or say anything. Understood?", he said in his best cold voice. He had been told that it was pretty scary, especially after he came out of Tartarus because of his slightly scratchy voice from the poisonous atmosphere down there.

The man immediately went stiff and nodded as much as he dared.

"Good".

Percy took that moment to search him, trying to decide whether he was monster, mortal, or something else. Though what else he didn't really know. The Minor god of breaking and entering maybe? He wouldn't be all that surprised.

Patting him down expertly with one hand, he kept the knife pressed tightly against his throat. There was nothing on him but what looked like an extremely well-polished stick. He had no idea what it was for, but he took it off of him anyway. Magical weapons came in all shapes and sizes, and he wasn't really willing to find out what this one could do.

"Come on, let's go", he said, roughly pushing the man forward with the knife still at his throat. He set the stick on the counter in the kitchen, making sure the it was too far away for him to grab it.

He could sense the two other men still in the living room. One of them was sitting on the couch while the other stood nearby in the corner of the room. Probably trying to hide for some reason.

As he pushed the man through the door and into the living room, he sensed more than saw the two men's heads snap towards him.

"Sirius, what—", the man in the corner started, but he cut him off.

"Speak or do anything but answering my questions and you will find your friend missing an extremely important appendage faster than you can blink. Understood?".

The two nodded very quickly but did not speak. He noticed the one in the corner of the room's pulse speed up, and he could see him close his eyes and try to control his breathing.

"You, in the corner, step forward a little bit, I can't see your face".

While the man did as asked, he felt the man he was holding, Sirius, shift his feet and make to kick him in order to get away.

"Don't even think about it, Sirius", he said, using the man's newly discovered name, "I assure you that I am very good with this knife, I don't think you want to test those skills. Do you?".

He could feel the man growl slightly in frustration and anger, but he didn't move again.

Nodding his head, he looked up again and met the gaze of the man who had just stepped out of the corner.

Immediately the knife was flying out of his hand and pinning the man to the wall behind him by his shirt.

Percy was no fool. He had a hunter for a cousin. He knew what that slightly rabid look in his eyes meant, those scars on his hands and face, the shabby clothes.

"Lycanthrope", he growled, ignoring their shocked expressions. "I thought that I told your king to leave me alone. Or does he need another lesson?", he spit out, flicking open the silver pocket knife he had thankfully remembered to grab.

He shoved Sirius towards the couch, forcing him to sit next to the other man before approaching the werewolf.

His instincts screamed at him that there was something wrong here. Looking around, he saw that they were right. The werewolf currently pinned to the wall had not shifted into its wolf form to fight like it undoubtably should have by now. In fact, it looked very confused and scared, which wasn't at all what should have been happening. Sirius, the man he had just been holding at knife point was glaring at him for all he was worth, but his hands were shaking, and Percy could see him glance towards the kitchen every now and then. Surely he would know how to fight even without whatever magical weapon that stick turned out to be? Right? And finally, the third man, the one who was incredibly elderly by the looks of things, was looking about as comfortable as if they had just been having tea and making small talk. Not at all scared.

He kept his silver knife out just in case, but relaxed his tense posture slightly, and instead of pinning them with his glare like he otherwise would have, he stared at them with a confused expression and tilted his head to the side slightly.

"Who are you? Why are you here?", he shot off, voice no longer poisonous but merely inquisitive.

The elderly man chuckled. "Those are all fine questions, my boy", he said in a kind, teacherly voice that reminded Percy immediately of Chiron. That fact alone was enough to make Percy relax further and listen to what he was saying.

"We do not mean to barge in on you like this at such a late hour, but we have some important matters to discuss with you regarding your family. You are Perseus Jackson, yes?".

He flinched at the use of his full name and was immediately on guard again at the mention of his family.

"What about my family?", he asked, his voice tight as he brought the knife back up into a more defensive position.

He saw the man's eyes flicker from the knife in his hand to the knife currently holding his friend slightly aloft by his shirt.

"Would you mind putting the knives away, my boy?", he asked, his voice still completely smooth and calm.

Percy hesitated. He wanted to, he really did. His instincts were telling him that these people weren't monsters, and they had no aura of power beyond the one of some of the legacies that lived back in New Rome.

But at the same time, he had a bad feeling about this. They said they only wanted to talk, and he knew that whatever they were going to tell him was going to change his life. For the good or the bad was still yet to be determined.

"Fine", he said, still casting suspicious glances around the room.

He put the small silver knife back in the small sheath on his left forearm, and crossed the room in a few quick strides, pulling the knife pinning the lycanthrope to the wall out and slipping it into another sheath around his right thigh.

The poor man, who Percy could now see meant no harm, walked over to sit next to his two companions on the couch with as much dignity as he could muster.

Percy shot him an apologetic look and tried to break the rapidly growing tension in the room with his signature lopsided grin.

"Sorry about that. Let's just say that I don't have the best experience with others of your kind", he directed towards the werewolf who, after collecting his wits, appeared to be analyzing him in a way that made him miss Annabeth all that much more.

"Oh and only people who want to kill me call me Perseus. Unless you're not telling me something, you can call me Percy".

They all looked at him weirdly, and it was only then that he realized that normal people don't generally have people trying to kill them on a regular basis.

 _Sigh. How come mortals get the easy lives?_

"Okay... Percy. My name is Professor Dumbledore. These are my companions, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black".

Both men nodded at their respective names.

Sirius had long black hair and was unshaven. His eyes were sunk into his head, and there were bags beneath them. Despite his rather bedraggled appearance, Percy could tell that he had once been handsome. He had the facial structure of typical royalty, and Percy could only assume that he came from a rather high-up family.

Remus had shaggy light brown hair and had quite a few scars all over his hands and face; no doubt the result of his curse as a werewolf. There was a slightly crazy, animalistic light in his eye that hinted at the true savage nature of the beast he was hiding. His clothes were very shabby and patched, but he had a sort of comforting aura around him. He also reminded him vaguely of Chiron. If Percy had to guess, he'd say that he was or had been a teacher.

"So, may I ask why you are breaking into my house at... 11:36 at night?", he asked, sitting down across from the three on a chair.

"We are terribly sorry to disturb your sleep, but we have come here on urgent news about your grandfather on your mother's side".

"What kind of urgent news?", Percy asked, more relaxed now that he had learned that this had nothing to do with the godly side of his life. "I was under the impression that my grandparents on my mother's side were dead".

"Well I'm afraid to tell you that that just simply isn't true. And in regards to what kind of urgent business, I have only one question. Percy, do you believe in Magic?".


	4. Chapter 3

In all honesty, Sirius wasn't paying attention at all to the usual talk about the magical world that Dumbledore was giving the kid, he was too busy trying to figure him out.

Seriously though... who holds people with a knife at their throat?!

Granted, they were technically breaking into his house in the middle of the night, but as far as they knew, this kid was supposed to just be living a normal muggle life. So what was with his reaction? He said that only people who were trying to kill him called him Perseus. Who was trying to kill him? All signs pointed towards him already having been approached by Voldemort and the death eaters.

And with Remus? It took a very skilled wizard to be able to detect a werewolf. If this kid had never been exposed to magic before, then how does he know about them. Regular muggles don't think that things such as werewolves are real.

Yes, there was definitely something fishy going on here...

He broke himself out of his musings just in time to hear the ending part of the conversation.

"So I'm a wizard", the boy said sceptically.

Dumbledore nodded his head confidently, and seeing this, the boy sat back in his chair with a rather dramatic huff.

"Can't you three just leave me alone?", he said under his breath, but Sirius heard him anyway, and by the way Remus' head turned slightly, he had heard too.

He began to mutter under his breath in another language that sounded vaguely like the language of magic and spells. And he didn't look very happy.

The three wizards turned to one another, all with questioning gazes and eyebrows raised- even Dumbledore! (Sirius was under the impression that he knew everything).

"Percy, you're going to have to come with us", Dumbledore said as gently as possible. Despite this, the kid still tensed and narrowed his eye in suspicion.

"Come with you where?", he asked carefully, his hand inching towards his thigh for some reason.

"Just back to our headquarters. Your grandfather will come after you and try to recruit you. We can protect you there".

"I can protect myself", he said, suddenly standing up and running his hand through his hair.

"Annabeth is so going to kill me for this", he muttered, leaving them to wonder just who Annabeth was.

"I'm sure you can, my boy. But you still have massive untapped magical potential. You need to learn how to control it. If you come back with us, you are guaranteed to have a spot at my school, Hogwarts School If Witchcraft and Wizadry".

He again ran a hand through his hair, a habit, Sirius noticed, that he did whenever he was nervous.

"O-okay. Fine. I'll come with you. Just let me call my parents and fiancée first", he said, turning towards the bathroom for some reason.

"Fiancée? Aren't you a bit young for that?", Sirius asked, incredulous. "How old are you anyway?".

"I just turned 17 two weeks ago. And about my fiancée... We've been through some stuff. I made her a promise that we would always stay together, no matter what. I'll be able to go and visit her, right?", he asked, suddenly looking anxious at the prospect of not seeing his fiancée for an entire year.

"Of course. Just as with any other school, Hogwarts has breaks in which you can leave the school and go and visit your loved ones".

He visibly relaxed.

"Okay. I'm going to go and call my family, and then I'll go with you to... wherever it is that your headquarters is".

With that, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

"I thought he was going to go and call his family?", Sirius said, confused as to why he had gone into the washroom to make his calls.

"Maybe he just has to go to the loo", Remus offered, though it came out as more of a question.

Sirius shook his head to clear the off-topic thoughts from his mind and set it onto more serious matters.

He turned towards one of his best friends of many years and raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

"I thought the kid was... interesting", he said, seeming to choose his words carefully.

Sirius snorted.

"That's one way of putting it".

Remus cast him a disapproving glance.

Seeing the look, he scoffed.

"Oh come on, Remus. Don't tell me you didn't think that that first reaction was a little weird. He threatened me with a knife! He threatened you with a knife! What normal muggle kid just carried knives around like that?! And what's with the hoodie? He had the hood up the entire time, I couldn't even really see his face".

Dumbledore said nothing, his usual calm expression on his face as if all that had happened at the meeting with this kid was completely normal, but if you looked closely, you could see out his uncannily pale blue eyes were distant. He was trying to think of an answer to all of their questions too.

Remus didn't even try to hide his unease.

"I don't like somebody else knowing about the curse, much less some kid we just met. What I don't get is how he knew. I didn't give anything away, did I?".

Before Sirius could answer, they were interrupted by a voice that came from the now-opened bathroom door.

"I can see it in your eyes. You have that rabid hunger and thirst for blood. You have a short temper and a rage that is always bubbling inside of you that you work very hard to restrain but shouldn't be pushed regardless. And most of all, you feel like an outcast, even when you fellows repeatedly say that you're not".

Sirius would be lying if he said that he wasn't unnerved by the boy's serious words and piercing gaze, and he knew that Remus felt the exact same way.

He was leaning, relatively casually, against the doorframe of the bathroom which he had presumably just emerged out of after completing... whatever it is he was doing in there.

"You got all that from looking into his eyes?", he asked incredulously, having finally moved past the shocked and uneasy lump in his throat.

"Eyes are windows to the soul, Mr. Black. You can find out anything about anybody through their eyes if you know where to look", he said, looking away from Remus and meeting his own eyes dead on.

His sea-green eyes seemed to glow in the shadows cast over his face by the hood. They swirled and changed, like the ocean they so closely resembled. Remembering what he had said, Sirius went looking for his own answers, and was surprised when he found none. The boy in front of him was wearing a mask; a mask of neutrality and indifference that could almost trick even Sirius into thinking that he didn't care at all. Those swirling green orbs seemed to pull him in, trapping him and encasing him in stone. He had to force himself to look away.

There were a few tense moments of silence between the four people in the room in the early hours of the morning. And then, just as suddenly and shockingly as his serious and deep mood had appeared, it was gone, replaced by a stupid lop-sided grin that reminded Sirius somewhat painfully of James.

"Now then, where in London are these 'Headquarters' of yours?", he asked, his grin just visible through the shadows from the hood that shrouded his face.

"How did you know our headquarters are in London?", Sirius asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously again.

He just barely managed to catch Lupin's exaggerated sigh and shake of his head that told him that he had probably just done something stupid.

"You all have British accents, London is the capital of Britain, and you just told me", Percy answered, smugness slipping into his voice at the last point.

Sirius narrowed his eyes again, but this time it was entirely playful. He wasn't even close to figuring this kid out, and that uneasy feeling he'd had ever since their first interaction hadn't gone away at all- in fact, if anything it'd intensified- but he was funny and friendly, and Sirius couldn't help but think that despite his uneasy feeling, everything would work out fine.

 **A/N:**

 **Right, sorry! This ones quite a bit shorter than all the others. But I promise I'll make the next one longer. I just had to cut this chapter off before it got too long. I'm not a fan of cliffhangers myself, so I'll try to avoid using them best I can, but I make no promises! ;)**


	5. Chapter 4

As soon as he had thrown all his clothes together into a duffle bag, he and his companions gathered in the living room.

"So how are we getting there?", he asked as a sudden vision of them forcing him to get onto an airplane filled his mind.

"We are using a method of magical travel called apparation ", Dumbledore answered, making him jump slightly. The older man had been very quiet during his entire time here. Now Percy didn't really know him that well, but he had a feeling that this was not normal behavior.

After Remus had further explained what apparation was at his confused expression, Percy thought that it sounded rather like shadow travel. Except without the whole... darkness and screams of agony from tortured souls thing.

Of course, he could have just vapor travelled. All they had to do was give him the address. But during his conversation with Annabeth, she hadn't known who these 'wizards' were. She suspected that they might be legacies or blessed mortals of Hecate but thought that they probably had no knowledge of the gods. Because of that, he was on strict 'no-powers-unless-absolutely-necessary lockdown'.

Percy held on to Dumbledore's arm while the other two stood nearby.

"Now make sure you hold on tightly, Percy. We don't want you to end up in the wrong place".

He was slightly nervous about that. He was only holding on with his real arm, because he knew that if he held on with his metal one, they would find out about it. He still hadn't been able to come up with a good cover story for what happened to him. So right now he was settled on trying to hide it as best as he could. Thus, the glove and hoodie.

One second he was standing there, in his living room, holding on to Dumbledore's arm, and the next he felt like he was being squeezed into a teeny tiny box and rushing somewhere at what felt like a million miles an hour. Colors flashed in front of his eyes, but he couldn't make anything out. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, and he could feel a panic attack setting in.

Percy had always been kind of claustrophobic (part of the whole 'the-sea-doesn't-like-to-be-restrained' thing), but it had gotten so much worse after Tartarus. He always had to keep himself at a position where he could see the sky and the sun or the moon and the stars.

But now he couldn't. He couldn't see anything. He was back in a box again and he couldn't get out.

 _"If you like piña coladas..."_

The scene shifted. He was back in the Doors of Death with Annabeth, tears falling down his cheeks while he and Annabeth held the doors closed, just barely able to hold back the toxic smoke of Chaos.

 _"And getting caught in the rain..."_

The face of Tartarus filled his vision. That whirlpool of nothingness.

"You will never escape me demigod!".

 _"Kid! Hey, kid, come on, wake up!"._

He was being shaken. No, that wasn't right. That didn't happen

 _"What. Happened?!"._

 _"I don't know! We landed and he was just like that!"._

 _"Does anybody know a spell?!"._

Screams. Screams from the pit. Screams from the battlefield. Screams from _him_.

He shot awake, but not fully awake. Pupils dilated, heart beating fast, adrenaline pumping, two scenes layered over one another.

There was a woman kneeling over him. She had bubblegum pink hair and a small, kind face. But all he saw were the Arai closing in on him, Annabeth in the distance, screaming and crying with milky-white unseeing eyes.

Before he knew it, his knee was on her chest and the knife from the sheath in his shoe was at her throat, poised to kill anything that was keeping him from his wise girl.

 _"Wake, Ladon! Wake!"._

He was back, fully back this time. Zoe's voice echoed through his head and guilt gripped his heart. Faces flashed through his mind, all those he was never able to save: Zoe, Silena, Beckendorf, Luke. His fault. All of them.

The knife fell out of his hand, clattering to the floor.

"I-I'm Sorry", he choked out, eyes drawn to the thin red line that showed just how close he had become to adding another name to that list. "I-I-".

He clambered off of her, his knee releasing his weight from her chest and allowing her to breathe again.

Standing up, he looked around the room and saw that at least two dozen people were crammed into what looked like a kitchen. All in a circle around him, and all pointing sticks at him.

Normally he would make some sort of sarcastic remark about how they were obsessed with these sticks, but after that flashback, he was much too shaken.

They were all staring at him. Too late did he realize that they weren't staring at _him_ , but at the right side of his face. The _scarred_ side of his face.

After the infirmary had collapsed on him, the campers had all worked quickly to get him out. Lord Hephaestus himself had controlled the fires while the rest dug him out. By the time they had found him, it was already too late. He had fourth degree burns on his right arm all the way up to his elbow and third degree burns on the rest of almost his entire right side. Had Will not been such a good healer, he probably would have lost his right leg too.

As it was, his right side was mostly made of stretched red skin that extended all the way up the side of his neck and onto his face. Lighter pink scars from burns not as deep as the others curled up from his neck and onto the lower half of his right cheek in an almost delicate pattern. They told him that the scars would fade in time. To join the white slashes on his back and chest from previous battles. But for now, they were still red and raw and oh-so-obvious.

His gaze hardened and his jaw set, the people staring enough to force him back into the present and away from his memories.

Percy quickly reached back and lifted the hood of his hoodie back up, using the shadows it cast to hide his scars. A quick check of the glove on his right hand showed that it was still on and secure, just as it should be.

"What the bloody hell was that?!", a voice said from the doorway, breaking the silence.

Percy turned towards it, burying his hands in his pocket as he did so, and saw three teenagers with stunned expressions on their faces.

One of them, the one who had spoken it seems, had bright red hair and equally red freckles covering his face. Bright red hair, he noticed, that seemed to be shared by at least half a dozen of the room's occupants. They must have been family.

The two teenagers flanking him both looked around the same age as the red-head. If he had to guess, he'd say around 15 or so. The girl had wavy light brown hair that looked kind of bushy, like she hadn't run a brush through it in a long time. She was studying him with intelligent brown eyes that seemed to analyze his every move. Her stare reminded him of Annabeth, though she wasn't nearly as intimidating. The last teenager looked a little bit like him. Or rather, like he used to. He had messy raven black hair, but instead of looking windswept like his did, it looked like he had just rolled out of bed and hadn't bothered to brush it. He also had green eyes, but his were more emerald green whereas Percy's were sea-green. He was pale where Percy was tan, and thin where Percy had lean muscles. The kid, Harry Potter based on the scar on his forehead, was glaring at him with an emotion that could only be described as pure hatred.

Percy looked at them all carefully, doing his usual check for weapons, checking forearms, thighs, hips, and ankles, but he found nothing but those strange sticks that they all seemed to hold as if it were the ultimate weapon. He reached out with his senses, looking for any bodies in the shadows of the room or hidden anywhere, but again, found nothing.

After deeming the area safe, he was able to comprehend the question enough to answer.

"Nothing. I'm fine".

He scoffed inwardly at himself.

 _I'm fine._

Those two words. Two words that made up his most well-used lie. He was never fine. He would never be _fine_. But he was the hero of Olympus. He wasn't allowed to be hurting. He had to be strong. Because if he faltered everybody would fall right along with him, and he just couldn't allow that to happen.

And so he was.

 _I'm fine_.

Those words weighed on his heart, but he knew he could never drop the mask. Not with anybody but Annabeth. And right now, they were half a world apart.

He gave them the small reassuring smile that he always gave the younger campers when they asked if he was okay. The answer was no, no he _wasn't_ okay. But with that smile he never had to lie.

 _ **Flashback:**_

 _He reached out with his real arm, ruffling the eight-year old's messy brown hair._

 _"Of course I am, buddy. Don't worry about me"._

 _The child smiled a happy gap-toothed grin, his purple eyes filled with magic sparkling with innocent happiness._

 _"Okay!", he accepted happily with no question, running off to go and join his friends and siblings._

 _The mask dropped for just a moment. The smile melted, and behind it he wore a pained grimace. His right hand throbbed, as it so often did now. Apparently, his body didn't care if the offending body part was no longer there._

 _"You can't keep this up forever, you know", a familiar voice said from behind him._

 _He immediately turned and gathered her up into his arms, taking comfort in her lemon-scented hair._

 _"I'm fine", he replied, his voice muffled against her hair._

 _She pulled away, cupping his face in her hands and forcing him to meet her eyes._

 _"I'm being serious"._

 _"And so am I, Annabeth", he insisted, giving her a small peck on the lips._

 _"I'm fine"._

 _ **Flashback Ends:**_

"Well obviously you're not fine!", the bushy-haired girl said hotly. "We just watched you have a seizure or something!".

"Yeah. You were screaming bloody murder", the red-head said.

"Do you have epilepsy? Are you still in pain? What language was that that you were speaking? Who's Annabeth? Why was somebody going to kill her? What—".

These questions were all seriously irritating him. What right did she have to ask him about his life? About Annabeth? No right. No right at all!

The more logical side of his brain was telling him that they had just witnessed him have a flashback. Flashbacks could be pretty disturbing at times, and they were probably just curious as to what was happening with him. But his nickname was Seaweed Brain from a reason, and the logical side of his brain was much smaller than the impulsive side.

—

As soon as the kid's feet hit the floor he keeled over. Which, in and of itself, wasn't all that unusual. Many people felt queasy or sick after their first time apparating. But _this_? This was not what usually happened.

He fell to the ground, thankfully on his side, his legs simply not supporting the weight of his body at all. It was like he had gone to sleep on his feet.

In fact, that is exactly what Sirius thought had happened before he started shaking.

All at once all the muscles in his body tensed, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his jaw clamped tight, like he was trying to stop himself from screaming.

But it wasn't working.

He shook violently on the floor, occasionally letting loose screams of pure pain.

Order members buzzed around him, trying to hold down his flailing limbs and wake him up from whatever kind of fit this was. At some point, someone had fetched a pillow to put under his head to stop him from hurting himself.

After about a minute, the screaming thankfully stopped only to be replaced by him sobbing in a language that none of the Order members could understand.

The only thing that Sirius could understand out of his babble was the name Annabeth. He recognized that name as the name of Percy's fiancée.

His shocked thoughts were interrupted by an angry and frantic Mrs. Weasley.

"What. _Happened?!"_ , she said, casting frantic looks back to the boy having some sort of episode on her kitchen floor.

"I don't know! When we landed he was just like that!", he replied, wracking his brain for any reason why he might be reacting like that. Was it possible for somebody to be allergic to apparation?

Tonks was leaning over him, kneeling in the ground and shaking him to try and get him to wake up while a few others held down his limbs to keep him from breaking something.

He stilled, Tonks hovering over him, a little bit stunned that her shaking might have worked.

And then suddenly, he was awake. But something wasn't right. He didn't seem all there. His eyes were unfocused and distant, his pupils dilated, and his breaths came in quick gasps that seemed borderline hyperventilation.

Before anybody could do anything, Tonks slammed into the ground, his knee pressed into her chest and preventing her from breathing. A knife had appeared out of nowhere and was pressed against her throat, a thin red line appearing where it broke the skin. Even one more centimeter and Tonks would be dead, despite any magical skill anybody in the room might possess.

Every single wand in the room was pointed at him, though he didn't really seem all that worried about it. His eyes were still distant and clouded, like he was seeing something else. His hand didn't waver, didn't shake, he was completely comfortable and confident in the position that he was in, knee on someone's chest, knife at their throat, their life in his hands.

Like he did it everyday.

His eyes screwed shut in a pained expression, his lips curled into a snarl. It was like he was fighting himself.

"Wake... _Wake!_ ", he said to himself under his breath, his voice becoming more forceful the longer he spoke.

Suddenly, just like that, his eyes cleared. He took in a deep stuttering breath, not at all like the shallow ones that would have eventually forced him to pass out. He looked down at Tonks, her body shivering in fear, and how the red line the knife had made now had a single drop of blood rolling down her neck. He looked sufficiently horrified, and the knife clattered from his hand and onto the floor.

"I-I'm Sorry", he said in a broken voice, eyes not being able to be drawn away from the crimson line on her neck that could have spelt the end of Tonks' life. "I-I-".

He clambered off of her, removing his knee and allowing her suck in a few precious gulps of oxygen, and lifting his head in the process.

Sirius barely stopped himself from gasping.

At some point in all the confusion, the kid's hood had fallen off, revealing the face that Sirius had been so anxious to see and that he now wished he couldn't.

From his jawline all the way up to just under his cheekbone stretched scars. Burn scars by the looks of them. They rose and dived in the almost fascinatingly beautiful way that flames flickered, mimicking a campfire. It was almost impossible to tell how long ago it had happened. The skin looked stretched, and too pink. It was entirely healed, but still very aggravated. It was odd in the way that it had only crept that far up his face. His ear and hair on that side all looked perfectly normal, same with his lips, nose, eyes, and eyebrows. It was just his right cheek and jawline. The burns followed no logical path, like the fire that had burned him was alive. Not natural.

It wasn't long before Percy realized what they were all staring at. And when he did, that shaken, scared look that had taken over his face after coming back to his senses disappeared, only to be replaced by the infamous mask.

His eyes hardened like unfeeling emeralds, and his jaw set in both confidence and restrained aggravation.

Before anybody could say anything, he reached back and pulled the hood back up and over his head, casting the scarred part of his face into shadows once again.

"What the bloody hell was that?!", Ron asked from the doorway. Sirius hadn't even seen the famous 'Golden Trio' enter the room, but he supposed that one would have had to be deaf to not hear all the commotion. He quite wished that his godson didn't have to witness things like this. He wanted to protect him, just as his best mate had entrusted him to do. But another part of him said that that _was_ the best way to protect him, so he let it slide. The others in the room were either in too much shock or were too occupied with the new child in front of them to care that the three of them were there when they technically weren't supposed to be, and that seemed to suit them just fine.

Percy didn't move to answer their question for a long time. Hardened green eyes scanned over everyone and everything in the room. It was unnerving to say the least. That mask that he always wore gave away absolutely nothing, and yet when those piercing sea-green eyes focused on him, Sirius felt completely transparent. It was like the boy had said earlier, eyes gave away the secrets of the soul, and this boy's eyes were so well guarded that Sirius didn't really want to know what had happened to him anymore.

As he scanned, he tilted his head to the side, something which made him look a little bit like a dog. Remembering Snuffles, a grin made its way onto his face without his permission. What nobody in the wizarding world knew was that Kronos used to do the exact same thing.

Percy would never admit this, but he had come to understand his grandfather the Lord of Time. Being a leader was hard, and not all battles could be fought with fighting. For the sake of your people, trickery and what some would consider underhanded tricks had to be used, and Percy no longer minded his use of them.

That was exactly what Percy knew he was: a leader. And the other half-bloods were his people, his family. He would let no harm come to them if he could do anything about it.

Percy didn't fight on the side of the gods, Percy fought on the side of his family. He _fought_ on the side of humanity.

Finally, Percy's roaming gaze and mind settled, and he fixed his attention on Ron who was still standing with Harry and Hermione in the doorway.

"It was nothing. I'm fine", he said coldly.

Sirius barely restrained a snort.

 _Fine?!_ _ **Fine?!**_ _If that was fine, then Sirius would hate to see horrible._

His eyes momentarily went distant again and the corners of his lips twitched up in a wry smile that held no humor, only deep sadness.

"Well obviously you're not fine", Hermione said hotly, "We just watched you have a seizure or something!".

"Yeah. You were screaming bloody murder", Ron added, looking more than happy to let Hermione take over the interrogation.

"Do you have epilepsy? Are you still in pain? What language were you speaking in? Who's Annabeth? Why was someone going to kill her? What-".

Sirius watched the reaction on his face as Hermione fired off question after question. At first, it was just simple annoyance at being questioned like a common criminal (Sirius could relate to that). But as soon as the girl, Annabeth, was mentioned, that simple annoyance turned into raw, protective anger.

At the back of his mind, Sirius vaguely remembered the name Annabeth as the name of Percy's fiancée. But he barely had time to register that before he was sent for another loop.

All beings with magical blood have an aura of sorts. A shimmering, colorful outline that surrounds their body and represents their power. Most witches and wizards' aura are rather faint and colored a purple or even sort of blue color; the color of magic. Those more powerful are darker and more evident.

Sirius had always sensed an aura of power around the boy, but it had been quite faint. So much so that he couldn't even clearly make out its color. He had assumed that it was blue; that was how it initially appeared anyway. But it seemed now that he was wrong.

"Excuse me", he said, his voice so sharp Sirius almost mistook it as one of the kid's knives. "I'm fine with you kidnapping _me_ out of _my_ life. I accept you dragging me into _your_ problems and getting me involved in _your_ war. But don't you _ever_ bring _her_ , or _anyone_ _else_ in my family into this. Do we understand each other?".

As he spoke, the faint aura of power around him seemed to explode outwards, hitting Sirius, and everyone standing around him like a slap in the face.

It was a strange sea-green color, completely unique, and the exact same color as his eyes. He seemed to almost glow with it, his silhouette and physique seeming all the more intimidating against it. It was funny, Sirius had never really noticed, but the kid was tall. He was about 6'3, and from what Sirius could tell beneath the hoodie and sweatpants, he was quite muscular.

There was a loud creaking and groaning noise from the water pipes in the kitchen, and the boy seemed to make a conscious effort to calm himself down, as his aura decreased substantially, shrinking down until it was at its original size.

Sirius didn't know what to do or say. He was stunned. And by the looks of everybody else around the room, they were too.

Everybody knew, of course, that magic reacted to the wielder's emotions, becoming more volatile and dangerous if not controlled. But never to an extent like this. His magic had flared up to almost triple its size! And then shrunk back down again!

Nobody said anything, and by the way the kid was glaring at them for it, he was actually expecting an answer to his earlier question.

"Of course we understand, my dear boy", Dumbledore said, taking the lead as it seemed nobody else was willing to do.

His emotions were skillfully hidden, as always, and his voice was completely calm. But the boy's gaze had a way of stripping down your defenses, and Sirius didn't think that anybody was safe from that.

He nodded in reply and took several more deep breaths to calm himself down before showing the first genuine emotion that Sirius had seen out of him besides anger: nervousness. It seemed he was rather uncomfortable with meeting new people.

Giving the room one last scoping glance, he took a deep breath and lowered his hood, averting his eyes from the others around the room and to the ground.

The shock had worn off, and this time when he lowered the hood, there were sharp intakes of breath all around the room. Mrs Weasley put a hand over her mouth, her eyes filling with tears.

Now that he had more time to examine it, Sirius could see that the burn marks continued all the way down his neck and disappeared under the hem of his sweatshirt.

 _Just how far down did these scars go?_

Percy cleared his throat, drawing all their attention away from the side of his face and towards his eyes, which were now once again sweeping around the room, an almost defiant expression on his face. Though what he was being defiant _about_ exactly Sirius didn't know.

"So... I'm here, just like you wanted", he said, looking at Dumbledore, "But I was under the impression that it was just us and a few other people. Not to be too blunt or anything, but who are you people?", he asked, this time looking pointedly around the room at most of the members of the Order who were all gathered in the room, making it quite crowded now that Sirius was thinking about it.

 **A/N:**

 **Here you go! Extremely long chapter, as promised!**

 **It was actually much longer than this originally- thus the awkward cut off- but the stupid thing was already twice the size of my normal chapters. There was no way it was getting any longer than this.**

 **So... Four chapters in, I'm thinking it's time for a check-in.**

 **How are you guys liking the story? I know this prompt has been done a million times before, but I like to think that I'm doing it better. What's your guys' opinions? And don't be too nice, either. Any comment at all makes me smile, even if it's to tell me I missed a comma on line 22. ;)**


	6. Chapter 5

Mrs Weasley was the first to step forward, her eyes still glistening slightly and flickering every now and then to stare at the side of his face.

"Hello, dear. My name is Molly Weasley, but you can just call me Mrs Weasley. This is my husband, Arthur; my sons, Charlie, Bill, Fred, George, and Ron; and my daughter, Ginny".

Percy raised his eyebrows.

 _Big family._

"Mum! I'm George, he's Fred!", one of the two twins cried, seeming indignant.

Percy spied the mischievous glint in their eyes, though, and knew that they were lying. They reminded him the Stolls back at camp. They were one of the ones to really help get people's spirits back up after the war. All of the veterans who had survived both wars were now closer than ever. They did almost everything together. Including beating up Leo after he came back on the back of a dragon with a girl behind him proving that he was not, in fact, dead.

Regardless, he knew he was going to like the twins.

He met the eyes of another of the brothers, Bill from across the room.

All of the siblings had matching hazel eyes- which was to be expected, of course. But just by looking into Bill's he knew that the boy had seen some things, just as he had. Especially if the scar on his face had anything to say about it.

They gave each other a curt nod, understanding flashing between them.

The remaining siblings all just glared at him poisonously.

He sighed. He knew that his grandfather was a bad guy and was considered evil. But he had hoped that everybody would have at least given him a chance before judging him for his family. Guess it was too much to hope that everybody would accept him right away.

He gave them a small wave and his signature lopsided smile. This seemed to confuse them a little bit.

 _What did they think he was going to do: sneer at them and vow to kill them just like his grandfather? Honestly, some people._

One by one, the rest of the Order stepped forward to introduce themselves, all with varying temperaments.

As expected, many of them members didn't seem to like him very much, especially one of them who introduced himself as Mad Eye Moody. He had made it _very_ abundantly clear that he didn't trust Percy in any way shape or form, and that he would be keeping his eye- though Percy didn't really know if he was referring to the creepy fake one or the real one- on him.

As soon as _that_ rather awkward process was over and done with, it was really clear that everybody was exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. Percy wouldn't mind a little bit of sleep himself.

Oh who was he kidding? He _needed_ to sleep. Like, _right now_. It had been about... three days by his count? Even without Will hovering over him he knew that that wasn't healthy. His head was pounding and his vision was swimming. With every moment he stayed awake it felt like the bags under his eyes became darker and heavier.

He forced himself to focus and stay awake. It wouldn't look good for him to suddenly keel over now after he had just managed to convince everybody that he was fine.

It was at this moment that he realised that everybody was staring at him.

 _Oh shoot. Someone asked him a question._

"Um... sorry?".

Mrs. Weasley smiled at him sympathetically, probably sensing how tired he was, and repeated the question.

"It's alright, dear. We were just informed about you not even two hours ago. Dumbledore, Sirius, and Remus, here rushed out the door to go and get you without even telling us your name or anything about you besides the fact that you were Voldemort's grandson".

 _Oh. Well that explains the expectant looks._

"Sorry. My name is Perseus Jackson. But you shouldn't call me that, especially in public. Just call me Percy, that's what all my friends call me anyway".

He saw a few smiles around the room from those he had perceived as friendly and his grin became slightly less forced.

 _Hmm... He should probably tell them what happened when he landed. He didn't have a plan, but when did he ever? He'd just wing it like he had his entire life._

"Umm... What you saw when I landed was just a flashback. I-um... I have claustrophobia and when we travelled like that I felt like I was being squished into a tiny box. It just... you know... triggered some things, I guess. That happens every once and a while, so if it happens again just hold my mouth closed and move all breakable things away from me".

He gave them a small, reassuring smile. But it didn't seem to work as they were all still staring at him, sympathetic expressions on their faces.

He hated sympathy. People always acted differently around him once they had heard what happened. Whether it be the lie he made up to tell mortals, or those people who knew the truth at camp. It didn't matter. They were never the same.

"So... um, I'm actually really tired right now. You guys kind of kidnapped me in the middle of the night, so...".

Mrs. Weasley immediately picked up on what he wasn't saying and was quick to respond.

"Of course, dear! Of course. Hmm... I suppose you will be staying here with us, then?", she looked at Dumbledore at this as it was very obvious that Percy didn't have the answer. He gave her a simple nod, his eyes still locked on Percy and his facial expression still thoughtfully blank. "Okay, well we're a tad short on rooms at the moment. So I suppose that you can room with Bill for the night. Is that alright, dear? I do apologise, but this house isn't as big as our old one".

Percy nodded, glad that he wouldn't have to room with one of the members who seemed to loathe him, but also not really caring at the moment. The world around him seemed to be disappearing into a sleep deprived haze.

The crowd began to disperse, murmuring filling the room as the members of the Order split off into separate smaller groups and began talking amongst themselves. Percy followed Mrs. Weasley through the crowd and towards the door, but before they could reach it or the chatter became too loud, the sound of somebody clearing their throat was heard and all fell silent again.

Percy turned to find Dumbledore looking at him expectantly. He wasn't all that surprised to notice this, seeing as the old professor had been staring at him deep in thought ever since he had suffered through his extremely ill-timed flashback. But this time his gaze was not distant, and his pale blue eyes were clearly focused on Percy.

"My dear boy, I have no qualms about allowing you into our headquarters. Through our conversations, I feel that you are trustworthy. However, I do not think that the other members of the Order who reside here, especially those with children, would particularly appreciate having you freely walking around here with all of your weapons on you. I would love to be able to ask you this, but I'm afraid this time it will have to be more of a demand: please turn over all your weapons, I have no doubt that you have quite a numerous amount hidden on your person".

Percy's instincts flared as the still-gathered wizards immediately all took out their sticks again and pointed them at him. His eyes narrowed dangerously, and his body tensed. The adrenaline now flowing through his veins sharpening his senses and driving back the exhausted haze.

"Weapons? What does he mean, weapons?".

"Like a wand? I thought he was living as a muggle?".

"No, you idiot! Did you not see the knife he threatened Tonks with earlier? We can't let him keep that on him. What if he kills us in our sleep?".

His slightly enhanced demigod senses allowed him to pick up on the mutterings around the room after Dumbledores request. The last one genuinely amused him, and the grim line his mouth had set into upon being threatened cracked into a grin. The witches and wizards around him, apparently, did not find that reaction particularly reassuring, as their grips on their wands all tightened, as if that was stopping him from disarming them all. For a bunch of supposedly well-trained wielders of magic, he would have thought that they would all _at least_ know how to hold their weapons so that their opponent cannot force them to drop it.

"Trust me, killing people in their sleep is just simply not my style. If I was going to kill you, it would be for a reason, and out in the open", he kept his voice casual and light, though the hairs on the back of his neck were tingling at the fact that he had at least two dozen sticks, which appeared to apparently be weapons, pointed right at him.

His casual evaluating gaze sharpened into the wolf glare that Lupa had taught him during his training as a Roman, and the grin slipped off his face.

"As of yet none of you have given me a reason. But if you don't put those idiotic sticks down that fact may change".

Even his short amount of time as praetor followed by his current time as honorary praetor had changed him. And that, apparently, included the way he spoke. It was funny how he was only just beginning to notice it now, but he spoke much more formally. Like he was eternally speaking in front of the Roman Senate.

 _Guess commanding an army will do that to you._

His sharp gaze swept around the room, and gradually, the strange sticks pointed at him were put away, though he could still see them on all of their persons, put in places from which they were easily accessed. He didn't mind that. That was simply smart. As long as they weren't physically being pointed at him. He hated being accused of things he didn't do, being treated like a criminal. Them pointing their supposed 'weapons' at him made him feel like that.

"Thank you".

His posture relaxed, and his wolf glare disappeared, and the casual lop-sided grin reappeared. Though this time, it was most definitely forced.

He pondered on what he should do about Dumbledore's request. It was most certainly an understandable one, and Percy even felt the small bit of respect for the headmaster that he already felt begin to rise. He had not given away the fact that he had weapons on him, and years living essentially undercover in the mortal world made him an expert in hiding them on his person. There was no way they could have spotted them unless he wanted them to. In his request, Dumbledore was simply being cautious, and polite about it to boot! That was something Percy could respect.

Obviously, there was no way he could give away all his weapons. The second he did that he might as well be dead. First rule of being a demigod, never go anywhere without a weapon. Monsters had a certain knack for finding you when you were the least prepared, and this was only made worse by the fact that he was a child of the Big Three with a strong scent.

Yet, they knew, and he had to give them something. He relented to giving them all his non-magical weapons with the condition that he would get them back. Camp Half-Blood may have better access to godly weapons and materials, but that didn't mean he could go throwing away perfectly good weapons because a group of mortals asked him to.

While he was lost in his thoughts, the atmosphere in the room had become steadily tenser. His hesitation to part with his weapons was obviously taken a different way, and if most of the people in the room didn't like him before, they _definitely_ didn't like him now.

"Fine", he said grudgingly, trying to make his reluctance and suspicion as realistic and convincing as possible. With any luck, they would believe that what he gave them was all he had, and they would leave him alone.

He reached down to the two sheaths on the outside of either thigh and removed the two simple hunting knives strapped there. One was celestial bronze while the other one was made of simple mortal steel. Surprisingly, there had been many a time when he had been harassed by mortals on the street. All his weapons had once been made of celestial bronze, so no matter his proficiency in almost any blade you handed him, they were completely useless. He had eventually bought one from a mortal hunting store and brought in to the Hephaestus cabin to be altered and improved. Needless to say, he was getting rather tired of having bruised and bloody knuckles all the time.

As far as hunting knives go, they were quite large. Their length, hilt and all, being perhaps about the size of his forearm and about just as wide. They were completely smooth and always sharp with handles made of simple leather whose grip had been molded to his hand over time.

He took them out of their hidden sheaths at the same time and gave them both an expert twirl before handing them, hilt forward to the nearest Order member.

Said member flinched before gingerly taking them from him and bringing them over to the table, setting them down carefully like they were some sort of venomous animal.

An amused smile made its way up onto his face as he observed this.

 _Yep. 100% mortal. No doubt about it now._

"Excellent. Thank you, Percy", Dumbledore said, making Percy think, for a moment, that he had gotten away with no issue. "Now, if you would just hand over the rest of them, we can all be on our way to bed".

Once again all the eyes in the room were on him. Percy was shocked, but some part of him wasn't surprised at all. It was well-known throughout what he suspected to be the entire mythological world that Percy Jackson had _horrible_ luck. Though what he had done in particular to offend Tyche he didn't know.

Still, his bearings were gathered in an instant.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, _professor_ ", he replied in much the same voice in tone the old headmaster had used on him. It was the same tone that Percy picked up on on the few occasions that he had had to deal with some of Annabeth's less-than-friendly siblings. Vaguely condescending, like they were having to dumb down their thinking so that he could understand it at their own strained expense.

Dumbledore merely chucked at his attitude, though, and flicked his wrist, waving a stick of his own in some way and shooting a bolt of coloured light right at him.

There was no time to dodge as it was simply moving too fast. But Percy knew from his own unfortunate experience dodging literal bullets that when you couldn't completely avoid taking the hit, he could at least position himself in a way so that it wouldn't hit anything vital.

The bolt of purple light hit him in his upper shoulder, away from any of the more major blood vessels. Had it been a bullet, the wound would have only simply affected the muscle, something which could have been easily healed and worked around.

As it was, the stinging pain and burning that Percy had _expected_ to feel upon impact never came. Instead, Percy felt nothing but a slight tingling and perhaps a tickle from the areas where his various weapons were hidden

There were several gasps from around the room, and when he looked down, he found that all his weapons were lit up in a strange purple light, their outlines glowing against his body and making him look like a very violently themed Christmas tree.

He was confused, and where earlier he had been simply annoyed, he was now pissed off. Percy wasn't completely sure what had happened, but that purple light must have been some sort of spell, meaning that those sticks they all carried were their wands. How he hadn't seen that before he wasn't completely sure. But either way, he saw now, and it _did not_ make him happy.

Judging from the gasps and mutters around the room, what had happened didn't particularly make _them_ very happy either.

"I don't understand..."

"That should have worked!".

"Is something wrong with Dumbledore's wand?".

"So the boy _does_ know magic!".

Through all the muttering he was able to hear form his current location, one voice he recognised as belonging to Mad Eye stood out among the rest and commanded the silence of the room once more.

"That spell was supposed to summon all weapons on his person to you. Why didn't it work? What have you done, boy?!", he asked, taking a threatening step forward that was halted by a simple and calming raise of Dumbledore's hand.

Despite his calm demeanour, Percy could tell that even _he_ was confused as to what had happened with their supposed 'spell'.

"True, Percy, I am not completely sure why the spell did not complete itself, but one thing is for certain: you _do_ have more weapons on yourself, _many_ more it seems. We are all tired and would like to retire for the night, but that cannot happen until this is done first. I implore you, Perseus. You have my word that no harm shall come to you while you are under this roof".

There was a tense silence while the two locked eyes: pale blue and sea green. Percy didn't know what to think. On the one hand, every instinct he had ever picked up from his time in battle and in Tartarus was screaming at him not to let go of his weapons. But on the other hand, his gut was telling him that he could trust this man. That despite all the hostilely he had been shown so far, these people would keep their word. It had been a while since he had made such a reckless decision based purely on a gut feeling, but something inside him told him that this decision was the right one.

He didn't reply this time, only giving a curt nod and breaking eye contact from the intense staring match they had been engaged in, letting his actions speak for his decisions.

He knew that that spell had revealed the hidden locations of all of his weapons. There was no way he was getting away with any hidden knives or throwing daggers. Some part of him told him that they wouldn't be needed. Even in his current impaired state he could sense the slight aura of... _something_ around this building. He assumed it to be some sort of magical ward. Whatever it was would be enough to keep monsters out and away.

Slowly, piece by piece, more and more weapons joined the two hunting knives on the table, creating a steadily growing pile.

On his entire person, Percy had a total of six throwing knives. Two in each of his boots, two strapped to his forearms, and two strapped to his belt on his hips. Everybody knew that Percy was probably the worse archer to ever walk the planet, so that's why it had come as a surprise when he could throw knives with some semblance of accuracy. Given a little training, Percy had improved drastically, and throwing knives had become a part of his usual outfit.

He hesitated after the last throwing knife had dropped to the table with a dull thump. These mortals were all clear-sighted, that much was certain. It was no doubt somehow related to their claim as witches and wizards. Regardless, as far as he was aware, none of them had ever had any exposure to the godly world before. His last two weapons were magical, but not in the way they were used to. No amount of bullshit excuses would explain how a pen suddenly turned into a xiphos and how a sword sheath complete with a sword suddenly appeared strapped to his back.

Shrugging and deciding to just get it over with, he took his trusty pen, Riptide out of his pocket. He uncapped it, ignoring the gasps and noises of surprise and setting his fully elongated sword onto the pile. Next, he willed his newest weapon to appear from its concealed form of a shark tooth necklace on a leather strap around his neck. A long sheath appeared, strapped to his back. The sheath was made of simple black leather, as was the visible hilt sticking out over his right shoulder.

He had gotten the sword as a gift from his father after he had recovered after the end of the Second Giant War. It had come to him already named, and Percy thought it aptly so. It was named _epizon_ , or survivor.

He had been given the blade not even two weeks ago, and he still found it fascinatingly beautiful at times. Times like now.

After taking the sheath off his back, he held in his hands, but unable to resist, he pulled the blade from it and examined it in his hands.

 _Epizon_ was made of a beautiful silvery blue metal, Atlantean silver, one of the rarest and most under-appreciated godly metals out there. The blade itself was longer and thinner than Riptide, forged in a way unique to Atlantis, and that only made it all the more beautiful in Percy's eyes. The blade still shone, polished and hardly used. The name was written in elegant cursive, standing out in a darker silver than the rest of the blade. He ran a finger along the edge and smiled appreciatively.

The witches and wizards watching him obviously didn't like the looks of his smile, because they all tensed and rested their hands on their wands. He rolled his eyes at their reaction before sheathing his last sword and dropping it onto the pile.

There were shocked faces all around the room. Wands were limp in their owners hands, apparently forgotten as they stared at the pile of deadly weapons that had just been procured from... _somewhere_ on this boy's person.

 _How was it even possible for him to carry that much at one time?_

 _ **Why**_ _did he need to carry so much with him?_

 _Why was he carrying weapons with him_ _ **at all**_ _?_

And most importantly...

 _How had he somehow managed not to stab himself?_

Percy really was enjoying watching all of their expressions. Some of those less in control of themselves held their mouths literally open while others, like Mad Eye, simply showed their shock in their eyes (or in his case, eye).

Percy crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight to his other leg before speaking.

"Right. Well as funny as this is to watch, I believe I've done all that you asked and would _really_ like to go to sleep now. You did kidnap me out of bed in the middle of the night", he shot pointed looks at both Sirius and Remus, but they could tell that the look held no real heat to it and just grinned back sheepishly.

The fact that he was speaking at all seemed to draw them all out their reverie, but he seriously doubted that any of them fully comprehended what he had said beyond the words 'sleep' and 'now'.

He couldn't blame them. Even he was dead on his feet. And one doesn't make it through two wars without a few sleepless nights.

"Of course, dear, of course", Mrs. Weasley answered in her usual cheerful manner, albeit slightly slurred. "Bill, dear, could you show Percy here up to his room. I do believe he's right, we can finish these discussions in the morning".

Bill nodded stiffly and made eye contact with Percy from across the room before jerking his head towards the door and walking out himself.

Mad Eye tried to protest, but he was silenced by a withering glare from the Mrs. Weasley herself, and _that_ settled _that_ issue for the night.

 **A/N:**

 **Another long one. My apologies if you don't particularly like reading these. But as you can see, I'm really bad at separating chapters. Not to mention it is currently... 12:22 in the morning where I am, and upper brain function has officially shut down for the night.**

 **You know what I'm going to say. Hope you enjoy, yada, yada, yada. I'm going to bed now...**


	7. Chapter 6

Harry looked around the kitchen where he was sitting and eating breakfast with his friends, thinking about what had happened in this same room just last night.

 _Perseus Jackson. The Grandson of Voldemort._

His lip curled at the thought. He was now over his shock that Dumbledore would even considering allowing the family of the man who had murdered his parents into the headquarters of the Order and had now moved on to anger. No, not anger. _Fury._

It was _obviously_ a horrible decision.

And that opinion was only backed up by the little display when he had first arrived last night. Granted, it was a little unusual to be carrying around weapons like knives and swords on your person (swords which had mysteriously disappeared at some point last night), but it still proved that he would be evil, just like his grandfather.

Speaking of their new arrival, Harry had yet to see him again this morning. Scattered around the kitchen, various other members of the Order were standing around and talking or eating breakfast. Mrs. Weasley was over by the stove monitoring the frying pan which was magically cooking bacon while talking with Mr. Weasley. Fred and George were creeping around in the shadows of the kitchen looking far too suspicious to be _not_ trying to play a prank. And his two best friends were sitting across the table from him and staring at him expectantly.

"What?", was his very intelligent response.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes while Ron cracked a small grin, but his eyes were still studying him in concern.

"You alright, mate? You kind of zoned out there for a minute", Ron asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright. I was just... you know... thinking".

Both of their faces soured as they obviously picked up on what, or rather, _who_ he was thinking about.

Hermione's eyes became distant and her face contorted into an expression that Ron and Harry had dubbed her 'thinking face'.

"What do you guys think?". At their confused expressions, she sighed and elaborated on her question further. "About the boy. Perseus".

Harry tensed and was about to retort when his best mate beat him to it.

"Well he's obviously evil!", Ron said, throwing his hands up slightly in the air, but still taking care to keep his voice low enough so that his mum couldn't hear.

Harry nodded his head in agreement immediately after.

Ron continued, "He's the grandson of Voldemort for Merlin's sake! There's no way he's _not_ evil!".

"Exactly", Harry agreed.

Hermione frowned at them both.

Hermione frowned. "But isn't that rather close-minded? You heard what he said yesterday. He's not his grandfather. You can't blame him for what You-Know-Who's done".

"So you're listening to him now?!", Harry exclaimed.

Hermione was beginning to grow frustrated with their pig-headedness, and it showed by the expression on her face.

"I'm not listening to him! He just made a good point. Look at Sirius and Tonks! The entire rest of their family are death eaters, does that make them automatically evil death eaters too?".

She could tell that statement got through to them, but Harry still wasn't giving up. He crossed his arms and glared at her stubbornly. And she glared right back.

 _It was times like these that she regretted being put into Gryffindor: house of the brave and stubborn._

Their glaring match was only interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

 **Percy POV:**

Percy was surprised to wake up the next morning after a surprisingly dreamless sleep. He always had nightmares- they weren't always all that bad, but they were always there. Especially when he was sleeping separately from Annabeth.

He laid in bed for a while, staring up at a ceiling he didn't recognize and trying to remember what had happened the night before. It was all in a sort of haze for him, he remembered them picking him up from his house and bringing him back to their headquarters, but then he must have had a flashback, because from that point on all his memories were murky.

He just hoped he hadn't hurt anybody when they tried to wake him. The only one who could do that successfully was Annabeth, and he had put many the accidental camper in the infirmary before.

It was not long after this that he started to get restless (thank you ADHD), and his stomach growled, reminding him that he still had not had breakfast.

As he sat up in the bed they had let him borrow, he realized he was still in his clothes from the day before. A quick check around the room assured him that he was alone, and he quickly got changed into some more normal clothes: a pair of jeans and a black long-sleeved under shirt beneath his usual camp shirt and beads. At camp, he didn't have to bother with the undershirt, but he was out in the mortal world now, and he couldn't risk them asking too many questions.

As soon as he was ready he opened the door and followed his nose down to where he figured the food was. He could feel Riptide in its pen form in his pocket, and his new Atlantean sword was hanging around his neck in the form of his shark tooth necklace. The feeling of having his weapons reassured him. The empty sheaths where he used to keep his back-up knives, however, did not. He trusted in his ability enough to feel able to defend himself with his dual swords, but he would still poke around and look to see if he could find where they had stashed his knives.

The stairs creaked as he walked down them, and his every step sent up a miniature cloud of dust. Even in the light of day the house seemed just as dark and abandoned. Dust coated everything, and old sheets were haphazardly thrown over various pieces of furniture, looking like they had been there for decades. In fact, Percy wouldn't have known that anybody lived in the house at all if it were not for the voices and smell of cooking food that drifted from where he assumed was the kitchen.

He was a few steps away from the door when the vague murmuring voices that he had heard from the stairwell clarified so that he could understand what they were saying.

"About the boy. Perseus".

He stopped in his tracks. They were talking about him. It was to be expected he supposed, considering who his grandfather was and the suddenness with which he arrived.

He knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but he was curious. So he stayed, just outside the still-closed door, in the utterly still and silent hallway.

"Well he's obviously evil!", he heard a boy's voice say.

He sighed. He was hoping that people wouldn't judge him right away like that. But he supposed that was too much to ask for. He would just have to show them that he could be trusted. Though, considering what he remembered from last night, that might be a bit harder than he thought it would be.

"But isn't that rather close-minded? You heard what he said yesterday. He's not his grandfather. You can't blame him for what You-Know-Who's done", said a girl's voice.

He immediately perked up. From what he'd gathered from this conversation, these three were good friends. If one of them was willing to consider the logic of his argument, he might have a shot of winning the other two over. Of course, he didn't necessarily have to have everybody in this 'Order' on his side, but it would certainly make things easier for him.

"So you're listening to him now?!", a third voice exclaimed. The other boy in this friend group. Of all of them, he seemed to be the one who hated him the most.

"I'm not listening to him! He just made a good point. Look at Sirius and Tonks! The entire rest of their family are death eaters, does that make them automatically evil death eaters too?", the girl argued.

He didn't know who Tonks was, but that information was good to know, he could use that in his arguments later if he ever had to defend himself.

It was at that moment that he decided to walk in. He really was very hungry, and he figured that it wasn't right to eavesdrop on their conversation anymore.

As soon as he opened the door, all conversation stopped, and everybody turned to stare at him.

In the light of day, the kitchen didn't look as scary and foreboding as he remembered from last night. There wasn't any dust in here like there was in the hallway and in some of the bedrooms, and somebody had cleaned the windows so that they weren't as grimy as others around the house and actually let some light in. Not to mention that there were also quite a lot of people gathered in the large space. Considering the bright red hair that most of them had, he guessed that most of them were related.

"Hello", he said, awkwardly waving.

Nobody said anything, and it was starting to make him uncomfortable.

Finally, after what seemed like forever but was actually probably more like a few seconds thanks to his ADHD, a kind-looking woman walked over from where she had been attending to the bacon cooking on the stove.

"Hello, dear. Good to see you're finally awake. We were beginning to worry that you would miss breakfast".

He grinned at her slightly before replying. "Miss breakfast? Once you get to know me, you'll know that that's one thing I would never do, Miss...", he trailed off, and a look of concentration fell over his face. He remembered meeting the woman and her family with the red hair last night, but he couldn't, for the life of him, remember her name.

She looked at him, concerned. "Mrs. Weasley, dear. We met last night. Are you feeling alright?".

He shot her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Of course, Mrs. Weasley. I just don't really remember much from last night". He looked around the room to find most of its occupants still blatantly staring at him. In their eyes, he could see a variety of emotions: anger, blame, sadness; but the ones that really got him were the sympathy and even slight _fear_ he saw there. That confirmed it, he had definitely had a flashback.

That realisation made him visibly deflate.

"I had a flashback last night, didn't I?", he said in a resigned voice. Now everybody in the room was confused.

"Yeah. Tried to kill Tonks when she was trying to wake you up, too", said one of the boys he recognised from when he was eavesdropping earlier. He had shaggy black hair and glasses, and he was glaring at Percy for all he was worth.

Percy sighed and ran a hand through his hair like he always did when he felt nervous or awkward.

"Sorry about that. Those happen sometimes. I once put a cousin of mine in the infirmary on accident. He's okay now, but still... The only person who can wake me up is Annabeth. So... What'd I do?".

"You mean you don't remember anything?", the girl asked in an incredulous voice. She reminded him of Annabeth with the way her eyes shown with intelligence.

He shook his head forlornly. Besides the fact that going through the flashback itself was horrible, another side effect of them was the fact that he was really hazy for at least a few hours after they were over.

"No. I don't remember anything but bits and pieces. A large family with red hair", he gestured around the entire room to said family, "Red-haired Stoll brothers who like pranks?", that came out as more of a question, but judging from the identical mischievous grins from the twins across the kitchen, he'd say that that was an actual memory. "Um... some sort of purple light thing?".

"Dumbledore's spell?".

"Yeah sure. And that's it. That and the fact that I woke up this morning with none of my knives so I assume you have them. Though how you managed to get them off of me is still a mystery".

He looked around the room just in time to see everybody's faces darken at the mention of his weapons. Seems wizards aren't very used to what they would refer to muggle weapons.

"Well that's good!", the girl exclaimed, a tentative smile on her face.

The expression that her red-headed friend wore resembled exactly what Percy was feeling on the inside right now: utter confusion.

Seeing as nobody seemed to be sharing her enthusiasm, she continued to explain.

"Don't you see? This means we can start fresh. You were obviously quite disorientated from that flashback or whatever sort of fit you had when you first arrived and obviously weren't acting in your usual manner. Let me be the first to reintroduce myself. Hello, my name is Hermione Granger". She held out a hand for him to shake along with offering him a wide, if slightly buck-toothed grin.

He smiled right back.

 **A/N:**

 **Explanation Time!**

 **Right, so sorry this took so long, I had three major science exams all one after the other that I had to study for. I'm in my GCSE year, so I'm just warning you all now, updates _will_ be rather irregular. **

**That said, If I'm really taking that long, just drop me a comment and I'll make an extra effort to get around to it.**

 **Alright, boring stuff out of the way. I was just reading over what I'd already written, and I realised that I wrote Percy really edgy and I honestly don't know why? Like? What happened to Seaweed Brain and Persassy?**

 **That being said, I am a firm believer in the fact that Percy and Annabeth would not just go back to normal after the war and them going through freaking _Tartarus_ for Hades' sake. They're veterans of two wars, realistically, they're going to be a little bit more naturally suspicious, a little bit more on edge, a little bit less trusting. Still, I'll try not to go overboard with it like I did in the last chapter.**

 **So... yeah... that's my explanation for the whole flashback-makes-me-fuzzy-memory thing. It's really just a cover up for me frantically trying to fix his personality before it's too late.**

 **Sorry.**

 **I know most of you didn't read that, so I hope you at least read this:**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for reading you lovely, lovely people! The next part to this chapter should be out within the day if not then definitely by tomorrow!**

 **Bye! :3**


	8. Chapter 65

"Hello Hermione. I don't know if I told you this already, but I generally like to be called Percy instead of Perseus. Bad things usually happen when people call me Perseus". He gave her an easy grin that insinuated that he was referring to usual mortal standards of 'bad things' like getting in trouble with parents or teachers, when actually he was referring to monsters. After the last two wars, it seemed every monster in Tartarus was on a personal mission to kill him. His name held a lot of weight on both sides of the mythological world. You never know when a monster could be prowling nearby disguised by the mist. So he generally tried to avoid using his full name in public.

After Hermione got the ball rolling, everybody stepped forward to introduce themselves. Or rather, _re_ introduce themselves. He had a sneaking suspicion that he had already met all of these people last night.

"Now then, dear. Would you like some breakfast? I'm sure you must be hungry".

His stomach rumbled and he smiled up at her sheepishly.

"That would be great, Mrs. Weasley".

It wasn't until he was sat down at the table that he realised the problem with this whole eating-breakfast-in-some-random-really-old-house thing. They didn't have a brazier, or a bonfire, and he had no way to conjure up fire to make sacrifices in. There was no point in eating without making a sacrifice. The gods would get all pissy and make his food taste bitter for the next two days, no matter what he ate.

He sighed and sat back in his chair, _away_ from the amazing food, looking around for some way to solve this problem.

When the solution finally _did_ come to him, he almost face-palmed for not thinking of it sooner.

"Umm... Mrs. Weasley? Is there any way you can conjure up some fire for me with those wands you guys have?".

Both Ron and Harry's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and it was only after he had asked the question that he realised how suspicious that request sounded.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to burn down the house or anything like that", he said, holding his hands up to try and quell the suspicious questions he knew were on the tip of the two boys' tongues. "I just need it to sacrifice some of my food. Back home we always have the fire place going during meals".

He looked pointedly towards the cold, barren fireplace tucked away in the corner of the room that even had a few cobwebs growing in it before turning his questioning gaze back on Mrs. Weasley and the other adults in the room.

Tonks, who he had apologised to profusely during their reintroduction, shrugged her shoulders and pulled an empty goblet closer to her over the table. The scab on her neck and the slightly fearful look in her eyes were both evidence that she still wasn't _quite_ over what had happened upon her first encounter with the boy sitting across the table from her. Yet, she was curious. He was an enigma, just like her.

She pointed her wand at the empty goblet in front of her, mumbled a few words under her breath and a tongue of flames came shooting out to dance within the goblet. It was very small, nothing large enough to cause any real damage should her instincts to trust him be wrong, but still big enough to serve the purposes he said it would.

"Perfect. Thanks", he said, taking the offered goblet carefully in both his hands and setting it down on the table in front of him.

Some would even say a bit _too_ carefully.

But then again, that would make sense. The scars on his face didn't come from nothing. She assumed that he had had some sort of accident with fire and gotten burned. It would only be natural for him to be a little bit extra wary of fire at this point.

He took the best-looking piece of bacon from off of his plate and dropped it into the fire, murmuring a few unintelligible words under his breath as he did so. Words which made Remus, who was sitting on the opposite end of the table, whip his head around to stare at the boy with a more analysing gaze than usual. He seemed to dismiss whatever it was he thought he heard, though, because he soon turned back to the book he held in front of him.

He soon began to eat as if nothing had happened, and everybody followed his lead, returning back to the various conversations they had been holding before he had arrived. All except the 'Golden Trio'. They all seemed to be lost in their own individual thoughts.

Percy was just about to stand up and offer his help cleaning the dishes- he seemed to have an affinity for that particular chore (wonder why)- when Ron's voice broke over the din of murmured conversation and brought everything to a painfully awkward halt all over again.

"So what's with the glove, mate? You've worn that thing since you arrived. And why only on one hand?".

Percy could see from the expression on Hermione's face that she was internally face-palming.

"Honestly, Ron? Out of all the questions you could have asked him, you asked him about his _glove_?".

Fred and George snickered at their younger brother's rapidly reddening face, but Ron didn't give in and still looked steadily at Percy with genuine curiosity in his eyes.

Percy's face took on a conflicted expression.

 _Should he show them? On the one hand, they might get really freaked out and ask him a bunch of questions he couldn't answer and maybe even trigger another flashback. On the other hand, if he wanted these people to trust him, he couldn't keep any secrets. Except, of course, who he really was, what he really was, who is family was, how he had spent the majority of his teenage years. So yeah, not much. But this wasn't something he could just lie about and keep hidden. Somebody would find out eventually. It'd be better if it came from him._

Despite the conclusion his inner debate had come to. He still wasn't finding himself to be overly enthusiastic about the explanation that was sure to come.

He sighed.

 _Like ripping off a bandaid._

"It's so I don't freak people out".

"What?".

Now everybody was confused. Again. Man, it was like they were going in circles here.

There was no way to explain that the lower half of his arm was made of bronze other than to just show them, so that's exactly what he did.

The glove came off, and he rolled up his shirt to half-way up his bicep, revealing not only the bronze arm, but also the still-sensitive skin around where it had been fused with his flesh.

"Bloody hell!".

"What the fuck?!".

For once, Mrs. Weasley didn't have the heart to scold whichever one of her sons had said the swear word, because for once, she agreed with that assessment (not that she would ever tell _them_ that). There was no emotion to accurately describe what she was feeling about this situation right now.

Hermione immediately moved seats so she was sat next to him and began to examine it.

"Fascinating. The level of craftsmanship on this machine is extraordinary!".

Percy grinned thinking of Leo's reaction to being praised like that.

"Thanks. My friend made it for me when I lost my arm".

"Well your friend must be brilliant", Hermione said, finally looking up from her examination of the intricate gears and miniature-sized machines that made up the inside of his arm.

"That he is", Percy agreed. His expression saddened slightly as he thought of his friend. Throughout all of their adventures on the Argo II, Leo had always been the one to pick up their spirits when things were looking down, to crack a joke in the most inappropriate of moments to make them all laugh. But Percy knew that humour was just Leo's way of hiding his pain. Just like Percy used his cluelessness to hide _his_ pain. He was getting better now, though, after getting Calypso off her island.

He was brought out of his wistful thoughts of his friends by another question sent his way.

"How _did_ you lose your arm?". The questioner appeared to be Remus, who had put down his book to join in the general gawking of the metal appendage.

Percy could see the guilt and slight fear in his eyes that clearly showed he was afraid that it had been one of his kind. After all, Percy _had_ stated that he hadn't had the best of experience with werewolves before.

"Don't worry Professor Lupin, it wasn't werewolves that did this to me".

He visibly relaxed at that, but curiosity soon overcame that and soon he was back to staring.

Percy rolled his sleeve the rest of the way up his arm, revealing some of the worst burns on his entire body other than his right calf.

The new skin there was thick, red, and not at all even remotely delicate-looking like the scars on his cheek. Thankfully, with godly medicine and healing, there was no need for any skin grafts, so it didn't look overly patchy. But it was still uneven and rough. Definitely not pretty.

He'd already caught Mrs. Weasley and Tonks having to look away, and he knew that soon the others would follow, so he dropped his sleep back down. He did, however, keep his glove off. He didn't like having to keep it one. It wasn't that it was uncomfortable per say, seeing as his hand was made of metal and so couldn't feel anything, but it was quite an inconvenience to have to keep it hidden all the time. He was constantly worried that the glove would slip and expose the bronze underneath when he didn't want it to.

"How did you know he was a professor?", Harry asked, seemingly attempting to move on from the subject.

Just as Harry asked that question, Professor Lupin himself butted in saying, "I'm not a professor. At least not anymore". He looked so said about that fact that it made Percy feel said with him, and he barely even knew the guy!

Percy just tapped the side of his head knowingly and shot Harry a teasing grin as the answer to his question.

"So?", Hermione asked impatiently, and he knew she was referring to Lupin's earlier question.

"It was an accident. A fire. The roof came down and I got stuck under a beam. Left leg was broken along with a couple of ribs and I couldn't get out. That's why only the right side of my body is burned".

The lie slipped off his tongue easily. After all, technically most of it was true. That was what made the best lies: the truth.

They all nodded and seemed to accept this answer, and the room was soon once again filled with an uncomfortable silence.

Percy stood up and decided to follow through on his original plan of offering to do the dishes.

"I can do the dishes if you'd like, Mrs. Weasley", he said, making his way over to where he spied the sink was across the kitchen.

"Oh. That's not necessary, dear. Thank you for the offer, though".

With a flick of her wand, the dirty plate carried in Percy's hand floated up into the air and was set down in the sink where the water automatically turned on and the soap and sponge began to clean it all by themselves.

Percy stared at it in awe for a few moments before shaking his head and managing to break himself out of whatever fascinated haze he was in.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that", he said.

That remark brought forth a few small laughs, and just like that the awkward silence was broken. Again.

"Don't forget about tomorrow, gang! We'll be making our trip into Diagon Alley for school supplies!", Mr. Weasley said over the steadily growing din of conversation that had picked up again.

 _Diagon Alley? Was that supposed to be a name for a place? Man, these wizards just keep getting weirder and weirder._

 **A/N:**

 **Somehow, all 5,000 or so words of this chapter are filled with absolute nothing. But it was a necessary evil. Sorry if they weren't really all that satisfying, but their trip to Diagon Alley is next, and I promise that that will be _very_ eventful. (*wink wink nudge nudge*). **

**Alright, I'm out. As always, hope you like it!**

 **Bye! :3**


	9. Chapter 7

It was the early hours of the morning. The sky was just beginning to lighten from its inky blackness to grey, and everybody in the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was still sleeping peacefully in their beds.

All except for one.

Percy Jackson was twitching in his sleep. His eyes moved rapidly back and forth behind his eyelids as he was plagued by the no doubt horrible visions there. His body was covered in a thin layer of cold sweat, and his blankets off his bed lay in a tangled mess by his feet as a result of his erratic movements throughout the night.

His hands twitched, as if searching for a weapon to hold, and his head slowly began to move back and forth in protest of something that wasn't there.

Suddenly, he shot up.

"No!".

As soon as his senses came back to him and he realized that he wasn't on the battlefield fighting for his life in the middle of a war, he seemed to relax. If only barely.

He hunched over on himself, curling up as hot tears made their way down his cheeks and silent sobs struggled past his lips. His entire body shook, and his arms frantically rubbed up and down themselves, as if reassuring himself that he was still alive and okay, if slightly less whole than before.

A quick glance over at Bill who slept on the bed next to him assured him that he hadn't woken the boy up. That was good. All Percy needed right now was some time alone to recover his mind and reel back in his emotions.

His arms, especially his left were very red and irritated from the frantic rubbing, and his usual long sleeve shirt had ridden up to expose his scars. Scars which he looked at with a mixture of sadness and self-loathing. They were disgusting. Deformations that marred over 80 percent of his body and made it so that even his own mother and fiancée could barely look at him without gaining a saddened and haunted look in their eyes.

His breathing was still shaky and shattered as he let the sleeves of his shirt fall back down over his arms and slowly slid his legs out of the bed.

It was too early for anybody else to be up, and they probably wouldn't be for a while. Usually when he woke up from nightmares like this, he would go swimming to calm himself down and clear his head. But there was no pool or ocean to swim in here, and no Annabeth to reassure him that everything would be alright.

Deciding there was no way he was getting back to sleep, he decided to make his way back down to the kitchen and make everybody breakfast. After all, it was his mother who had raised him, and even with Gabe in the House she had instilled in him a strong sense of manners and how to act when a guest in someone else's house. It was the least he could do.

A few hours later, when the sun had risen and turned the sky a gradient of different beautiful oranges and pinks, the rest of the household woke up to the delicious smell of pancakes.

"Blimey! Mum never makes pancakes! Wonder what's got her in such a good mood", Fred said to his brother, George as they woke up. He could only nod and make a dash for the door in response.

When they made it to the kitchen, however, they found it was not their mum responsible for the delicious smell, but rather their new guest, Percy.

Standing in the doorway, mouths agape was the rest of their family and close friends still staying with them from the Order.

"What is he doing?", Ron asked confused.

"He's cooking of course!", Hermione replied, sounding to all the world like it was the most obvious thing.

"What? With his hands?", Ginny asked.

"Oh this is just fascinating!", their father gushed, eyes glued the young man's every movement.

"Would you like to come in? Or all you all just going to stand there staring like fools all day?", Percy asked over his shoulder, a hint of humor in his voice.

George frowned slightly.

 _That was weird. How did he know they were all there? He hadn't even turned around._

But he soon shrugged the thought off.

 _He'd probably heard them. Yes, that was it. It wasn't like they were the quietest family in the world._

Hunger driving them forward, Fred and George looked at each other and grinned before stepping over the threshold and into the kitchen.

"I don't know what you lot are waiting for—".

"—But I'm getting some pancakes!".

Percy chuckled quietly to himself as the two boys ran over in a very child-like manner. He held out two plates with two stacks of pancakes on them on either side of him, and in a second they were gone.

The rest of the family soon followed, and in no time, everybody was sat down at the table with a stack of pancakes in front of them happily digging in.

"What's this?", Harry asked as he walked into the kitchen with his godfather, Sirius.

They were the last ones awake, and looked like they had just returned from a rather serious looking conversation. Percy didn't even bother wondering what it was about. He knew it was about him.

"Umm... Pancakes?", Ron offered hesitantly, mouth filled with food.

Harry's eyes flickered to Mrs. Weasley, who was uncharacteristically sitting down and eating with the rest of her family, and then on to Percy who was still standing by the dirty bowls and pans he had used, now busting himself with the washing up. The 'Boy-Who-Lived's eyes widened comically, and he seemed to choke on air.

"From _him_? Did none of you stop to think it might be poisoned or something?".

Ron soared a nervous look at his food, face paling drastically.

"Harry! We cannot go around throwing accusations like that!", Mrs. Weasley exclaimed in a reprimanding tone.

"Oh come now, Molly. The boy's suspicions are not unfounded. We hardly know anything about young Perseus here. It would have been the perfect opportunity to wipe you all out in one go", Sirius said, putting a supporting hand on his godson's shoulder.

As the discussion between them continued, Percy just leaned back against the counter with a half amused, and half pained expression on his face. It was almost five minutes later when somebody finally noticed that he was not participating in the conversation explicitly about him.

"Percy?", Hermione asked him. Just that one word was enough to quiet all other arguments in the room and turn their attention to the boy in question.

Once he saw that they had all stopped arguing, Percy turned to Harry and gave him a small smile that he usually reserved for the younger kids at camp when they got scared or didn't understand something.

"It's okay. I kind of expected this if I'm being honest. I didn't expect you to trust me right away considering who my grandfather was and what he'd done to your family".

Harry looked very smug as he heard Percy say that. That expression on his face just got under Percy's skin, and he felt the need to clear things up between them.

"However, that doesn't mean you should treat me like crap at every opportunity. I've been dragged into this world, I'm going to do my best to live in it and prove to you that I can be trusted. But I'm warning you now, don't push me. Because there's only so much unfounded hostility I can take on your weak excuse of who my grandfather is".

Harry looked stunned, right along with all the others who had been arguing in the room.

"Now then", he started, clapping his hands together and breaking them all out of their reverie, "Why don't you two sit down and have some pancakes. I promise on my mother's life that they're not poisoned". He gave the wizards a lop-sided grin to put them at ease. But the warning was clear in his eyes as they met Harry's across the room.

 _Don't test me, or you'll regret what you find._

—

A few hours later, everybody had gathered around the fire place and was ready to go.

"You want me to _what_?!".

Well... all except for Percy. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that they wanted him to step into the fireplace, and travel to another fireplace in a different house via magical fire powder. Magical _green_ fire powder at that!

It hit too close to home for him, the floo powder looked too much like the Greek Fire that had caused him so much pain since the last war. Of course, the logical side of his brain knew that this was _not_ Greek fire, and that even if an accident _were_ to occur, he would just be able to use his powers to snuff it out and blame it on magic. But since when had that side of his brain ever won?

"Just step into the fireplace, grab a handful of powder, throw it at your feet and say, 'Diagon Alley' in a nice clear voice. It's perfectly safe. Here, watch", Hermione said, grabbing a handful of powder for herself and stepping into the barren fireplace.

"Diagon Alley!", she said. Her body was engulfed in green flames, and then she was gone.

As the last ashy residue of the floo powder Hermione had used weightlessly floated to the ground, Percy felt as though the rest of the world around him had slowed down.

 _All he saw was green fire and then they were gone._

 _Pain. Pain. So much_ _pain._

 _Greek fire blocked his vision. He couldn't see the campers anymore. He supposed it was for the best. They knew him as a strong leader. Let them remember him as one._

 _His screams tore their way past his throat, and blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. Tears streamed from his eyes from both the smoke and the complete agony that had racked his body. A bitter smile made its way onto his face as he realised the horrid green substance had reached his face._

 _A fitting end for a suitably short and miserable life._

"Percy! _Percy!_ ".

He collapsed off of the chair that he had been leaning on with his entire weight. His knees buckled beneath him, and he fell to the floor, hitting his head on the edge of the table in the process. Thankfully, he was able to catch himself on his hands before any real damage could be done.

A drop of blood from the cut on his forehead dropped down, rolling down his cheek under his eye like a tear.

"Green flames", he whispered before his arms, too, gave out and he collapsed to the floor, out cold.

Silence and shock permeated the air like a thick layer of cold, winter fog. Half the room's occupants stared in awe and confusion as the water that had been hovering in the air collapsed to the ground with a splash. While the other half stared at the young man that now lay, passed out, in the middle of their kitchen floor.

It seemed... The more they grew to know him, the more questions he presented them with to figure out.

It was only now that they realised:

 _They hardly knew him at all._

 **A/N:**

 **Yeah I know, I know. I promised Diagon Alley. And I promise that's coming in then next half of this chapter. But I just had to publish this bit first. I should have the other half done and published by later tonight, so it shouldn't be _too_ long of a wait. I don't know if you guys like this writing style or not, I just know that when I first started out in fan fiction as a reader, I really hated it when writers would skim over the really _human_ effects of what they were putting their characters through.**

 **Percy is a person. He does have emotions (no matter how much he tries to hide them). He does have _severe_ PTSD (come on, guys; he's a teenager who's already lead in two separate, _major_ wars). I'm not going to gloss over that. With him, or any of the other characters that might come into the picture later. (*wink wink, nudge nudge*).**

 **Alright, I think that's enough for now. Just had to get that out there.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**


	10. Chapter 75

**A/N:**

 **Alright... So that may have been just slightly longer than a couple of hours. But in my defense, the chapter is like 5,000 words long. And I do have a life so...**

 **Actually, scratch that last bit, that was a lie. I totally don't have a life. (;) like anybody on this website does).**

 **Hope you enjoy as always!**

Percy woke up as soon as the water the rag was soaked in touched his forehead.

Epizon extended at his mental command and was pointed at the neck of his would-be attackers before he had even opened his eyes.

Someone screamed, a glass dropped and shattered on the ground, and it was then that he opened his eyes.

It was Mrs. Weasley at the end of his sword.

 _The kind, motherly woman had probably just been trying to tend to him after he'd been injured, and he'd gone and reacted like that. What was wrong with him?! Why couldn't he just be normal_ _for once?!_

"Don't touch my mother!", someone he recognised as Ron yelled from behind him.

His eyes widened, and his sword immediately disappeared back into his necklace.

"Oh my gods! I'm so sorry! I didn't know it was you! It was just a reaction! Oh my gods...", he said, catching her as she swayed and setting her down on the couch right where he'd just been laying.

Immediately, he was shoved away from the woman as her family crowded around her. He didn't protest. He deserved it for scaring her and them like that.

Once everybody had calmed down, they all turned to stare at him with varying degrees of anger. Ron seemed to be the most furious of the bunch.

"What is wrong with you?!", he yelled. He went to get up from his spot on the couch but one of his older brothers restrained him.

"I-I don't know!", Percy choked out desperately, wishing for all the world that he knew the answer to that question.

Mrs. Weasley must have recognised his panic and growing anger in himself, because she stepped in to deescalate the situation.

"It's alright, dear. Everybody is fine now. And after that panic attack you had, I'm not too terribly surprised you reacted the way you did".

That statement seemed to draw everybody's attention away from Percy's disorientated attack on Mrs. Weasley, and back onto the strange occurrence that was his reaction to floo powder.

Now all he saw in their eyes was puzzlement and confusion. It was an improvement on the anger of before. Albeit a small one, but an improvement nonetheless.

It was then that Percy noticed that there were a few less eyes that usual trained on him. Hermione being among those missing.

"Where's Hermione? Is she alright? Oh, I knew I should have stopped her from using that weird green fire transportation thing. Why fire? And why is it always green?! Is it just me who sees how many different ways that can go wrong?!". He probably would have said more, but thankfully the twins stepped in before he made an even bigger fool of herself.

"Don't worry about Hermione, mate".

"Yeah. She's fine. She, Harry, Dad, and Sirius all went on ahead of us".

"We volunteered to stay behind".

"Until you woke up, that is".

"But obviously that happened sooner than we expected", they said together in their typical Fred-and-George style. They said the last sentence at the same time, and both their eyes danced with laughter at Percy's confused expression with the way they spoke. Thankfully, he was already semi-used to it thanks to the Stolls back at camp, so it didn't take him as long as it normally took people to understand just what it was they had said.

"Oh. Well that's... good, I guess", he said awkwardly. "I really am sorry, Mrs. Weasley. I definitely didn't mean for that to happen". He went to take a step closer to her as she spoke, but he noticed Ron tense and send him a small glare as he did, so he decided to just back off and give the family some space.

"You okay, Percy?", Bill asked. He stood a little ways away from the rest of his family, leaned up against the wall.

Percy sensed the deeper question there and gave him a small nod.

"Good. Well we really should get going now", Mrs. Weasley said, standing up and walking back over towards the kitchen (and consequently Percy), despite the protests of her children. She had evidently gotten over her small shock for the day and was back to her usual bossy and busy ways.

Ron watched her go carefully. He had elected to stay behind with Percy because he wanted the opportunity to make his own judgement without the input of his friends. Despite what some people may say about him (*cough cough* Fred and George), he wasn't _completely_ helpless without them. He _did_ have his own brain.

So far, he hadn't liked what he'd seen.

 _Attacking someone's mother? That's low, mate? Even for a mini-Voldemort-in-training._

Once again, they were all gathered in the kitchen, and the small sack of floo powder was being passed around. Percy gulped as it was passed to him.

 _'Come on. You can do this, Percy. It's just a little bit of magical green fire. That's nothing_ _compared to the rest of what you've faced',_ he thought. Yet he still couldn't get himself to take the necessary handful. He just couldn't do it.

Of course, he had other ways of travelling that would be much easier for him. But those were directly involved with his demigod powers, and the witches and wizards couldn't know about those. The minor use of his powers earlier during his panic attack he could pass off as his untrained magic. But breaking himself down into molecules of water and then transporting that water at great speeds to another location? He was pretty sure that there was no magic that could do _that_.

After what felt like hours but was probably just a few seconds thanks to his ADHD of agonising decision, Percy had an idea.

He could fake it. Go through all the necessary steps, through down the floo powder and everything, and then just vapour travel before the flames (magical or not) ever touched him. They'd never be able to tell. And what the Weasley family didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

He nodded to himself resolutely in his head before taking a handful of powder and stepping forward into the fireplace.

 _'Aunt Hestia, protect me'_ , he prayed as a last resort before throwing the powder at his feet and proclaiming in a loud voice, "Diagon Alley!".

The powder erupted into green flames, and just before they could touch him and take him away to his chosen location, he dissolved into mist.

The magical fire sputtered out as a result of the fire, leaving a small puddle behind.

The Weasley family stared at it in shock for a moment before anybody spoke.

"Did he just... turn into a _puddle_? Because I don't think that's supposed to happen".

—

Percy rematerialised in quite a cozy and old-fashioned bookshop. He made sure to land in a fireplace, that way if anybody saw him it would look like he really _had_ just gotten there by using floo powder.

He stepped out of the fireplace and immediately felt overwhelmed.

He had been living in a house that was only coloured various shades of grey for close to two days now. It didn't sound like that long, but now that he was out and around such bright colours again, it felt like it had been an eternity.

Just outside the windows at the front of the shop was a whole new, magnificent world. It wasn't anything like, Olympus, or either of the two camps. It wasn't like anything he had ever seen. Witches and wizards in robes of all types hurried past shops filled to the brim with weird and exotic things. He even thought he saw a shop for brooms across the way. How stereotypical could they get?

He walked down one of the aisles in front of him, hand brushing against hundreds of spines of books of all kinds. None of which he could read, of course. But that was a bridge he could cross when he got to it.

He barely even registered the multiple ' _swoosh'_ sounds from behind him that signified the arrival of the Weasley family, too caught up as he was in this new world around him.

At the front of the store, there were quills of all types along with bottles of ink and all different types of parchment.

He was just running his finger along the particularly beautiful peacock feather quill when a hand landed on his shoulder, making him jump.

"Ah! There you are, Percy. And Molly! We were beginning to get a little bit worried about you. Everything go alright?", a plucky male voice Percy recognised as Mr. Weasley asked.

It seemed the rest of the Weasley family had been walking just behind him, watching in silent amusement as he opening gawked at everything.

"Yes, yes. Quite alright, dear. Just a little bit of confusion when Percy first woke up. But we figured it out".

Percy saw Ron give his two friends a meaningful look, and he knew that he'd be filling them in on everything that had happened later on.

Mrs. Weasley made her way over to stand by Percy at the window.

"It's all quite overwhelming at first, isn't it?".

He nodded, but didn't say anything more, too preoccupied with trying to absorb everything that was going on around him.

She pulled out a folded up piece of parchment and showed it to him, though what it said he couldn't tell you.

"Though you're 17 now, and most 17 year old's are entered into 7th year, you are a special case. You've never been exposed to magic before, so we very well can't put you in the highest year, but at the same time, Dumbledore doesn't wish to embarrass you too much by putting you in the same class with all the first years. So you'll be in fifth year, along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. It's your OWL year, so as long as you work really hard at it, you should be able to catch up enough to take the OWL's at the end of year along with everyone else. I wouldn't worry about it too much, dear. But you have a lot of work to do. And that means a lot of reading and a lot of books for you. I'd start looking if I were you".

Percy audibly groaned. He could take being stabbed, whipped, buried, and even set on fire. But if there was one kind of torture Percy simply _could not_ stand, it was reading.

—

A headache and a very confusing crash course on the inner workings of expansion spells later, Percy finally managed to escape the book store.

"Finally! Fresh air!", Percy cried over dramatically as they walked out of the shop.

"Oh stop being so dramatic. You're almost as bad as my boys", Mrs. Weasley said with a teasing smile.

"Hey!", all five of the present Weasley boys complained.

Percy snorted in amusement at the triumphant expression Mrs. Weasley wore as she walked away.

"Alright, alright. It's time to move on. We haven't got all day, you know", Hermione said, a faint smile of her own adorning her face. "Next stop: Gringotts. Hogwarts has a vault there for new muggle-born students so that they can buy their supplies. It's not very big, and you're not muggle born, but I'm sure in this circumstance you apply quite nicely", she said, already walking off down the street towards quite a large white building that stood out among all the others.

Percy stared at it for a moment, not quite believing what he was seeing. In front of him, was a white marble building that reminded him so strongly of some of the buildings in New Rome, that he had to double check his surroundings a couple of times to make sure that one of the gods wasn't playing some sort of trick on him. It was obviously very heavily influenced by the Roman culture, and even the poem on the outside could have fit in anywhere in Roman society. A beautiful piece of work created to protect and warn against the dark underground, full of underhanded tricks and schemes.

"What is this place?", Percy asked, running his hand up and down one of the pillars on the outside. He couldn't help but think about how much Annabeth would have loved the architecture on this building.

"This is Gringotts. It's a Wizarding Bank. The best and safest one in the world. Nobodies ever managed to steal something out of it, and nobody ever will", Hermione replied, sounding quite proud. Percy couldn't help but get a feeling in his gut that told him that that was wrong, but he wasn't about to say anything and ruin all their fun.

"Come on then, Perseus", Harry spit from the open doorway, "Hermione said earlier we haven't got all day".

Percy froze. Saying his name out in public was never a good idea. But saying his name out in public in the middle of a magical subculture filled with creatures that were probably split between worlds, and you have a major problem.

"Harry! How many times do I have to tell you to call me Percy!". Harry would have generally ignored this statement, especially coming from the grandson of the evil snake lord himself, but there was something about the panicked expression on face and in his eyes that told him to listen. "Okay...?".

It wasn't until he had walked completely inside the bank that he realised why it was so important.

Every single goblin in the place was no staring at them. Including the usually completely emotionless head goblin at the very end of the corridor-like lobby.

"Did you say _'Perseus'_? As in, _'Perseus Jackson'_?", he asked after a few uncomfortable beats of silence.

All of the wizards were confused but nodded nonetheless. This was not usual behaviour. Not usual at all.

Percy, on the other hand, only looked annoyed. Like he knew that this was coming. And that only served to make him look more guilty and suspicious in Harry's eyes.

" _Ave, Praetor!_ ", all the goblins said in latin, giving sharp salutes.

Percy sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in defeat, but stood up tall and gave the salute as he was required to in return.

 _"Ave!"_.

Normally, he would finish that by calling them people of Rome or legionnaires, but these goblins were neither, and he frankly didn't know _what_ to call them.

His wizarding companions were still standing in the doorway open-mouthed, so Percy decided to take advantage of that time when they weren't paying attention to get the majority of the transaction over and done with. Less time for them to ask questions he couldn't answer.

" _What can I do for you, Praetor Jackson?_ ", he head goblin asked him in Latin as he approached

" _I'm not praetor anymore. I was only praetor for like, a day. I don't understand why you all keep insisting on treating my like a praetor. Can't I just be Percy?",_ he replied in kind, letting some of his exasperation with the entire situation leak through into his voice.

 _"Once a praetor of Rome, always a praetor of Rome, my lord. It is a sign of respect"._

Percy sighed once again, realising that he was not going to win this battle and deciding to just get it over with before the wizards behind him suddenly became brave enough to interrupt his conversation.

He nodded and took a few steps closer to the desk. _"Does Olympus have a vault? I have just discovered that I am a wizard as well. I'll need money"._

 _"Of course, praetor. If you would just follow me"._ He climbed off his chair and began walking down a tunnel towards a mine cart. Percy was hesitant to follow. He might have been on better terms with Hades than he was with Zeus, but that didn't mean he should just go walking into his domain. Unfortunately, it seemed that that was the only way. Just as a precaution, he sent a prayer to the god of the Underworld before walking into the dark.

The group of witches and wizards he had walked in with watch him go in stunned silence.

"I know I've said this before, but what the bloody hell was _that_ about?!", Ron exclaimed, the first to break the silence.

All the goblins looked at each other apprehensively, but nobody noticed.

"Was that Latin they were speaking? But nobody speaks Latin anymore. It's a dead language! Even to wizards", Hermione said, looking simultaneously excited and frustrated with this new knowledge.

"This is just more proof of why he can't be trusted!", Harry said, frowning and looking in the direction of where Percy and the goblin had disappeared. Sirius in his animagus dog form barked his agreement.

"Didn't you hear _anything_ Percy said this morning, Harry? He has done nothing wrong to earn our distrust!", Hermione cried, throwing her hands up and spinning on her heel to begin pacing.

"Oh yeah?", Harry challenges, "Then where did he go, Hermione? Where did he go?".

"To his vault!", she yelled back.

"With what key?!". All arguments fell silent as they realized that Percy had never taken the key to the vault he had to get into. "He walks in here, the goblins recognize him by _name_ , he speaks to them in a _dead_ language, and then he walks off to who knows where with one of them. And you're trying to tell me that that's not _suspicious_?!".

Hermione now looked troubled. Everything Harry had said was true. And he was right, it _was_ suspicious. But everything in her still screamed that he was trustworthy. Besides, she was never one to make decisions without hearing both sides of the story first.

And so she, and the rest of the group watched and waited for their newest house guest to re-emerge from wherever it is that he had gone.

When Percy reappeared, he had a grave look on his face, as though he had just been told a family member had died. The goblin who had been his guide hurried back to his work station, and Percy made his way back over to the group. Who were all, despite even Mrs. Weasley's best efforts, glaring at him rather suspiciously,

He slipped something into his pocket and looked around the bank before his roaming gaze landed on Harry. And what he saw in that gaze, Harry can honestly say startled him.

With Percy's calm demeanor and easy-going attitude, it was easy to discount him; even with his weapons and who his grandfather was. After all, he hadn't been taught any magic. Even if he did have great magical potential like Dumbledore had thought, that wouldn't mean anything until he was taught how to use it.

But then someone would say say something. Or something would fall and make a loud sound, and this _look_ would appear in his eyes. This look that just told you he was dangerous. That seemed to taunt you. And you would just know that he was already ten steps ahead of you, that no matter what you did he would always be ready. It was predatory. Determined. And mixed with flashes of pure panic that were always covered up as soon as they appeared in the first place.

It was that look that Harry saw in his eyes as he came up from that tunnel and checked his surroundings, like instinct.

Harry knew that nobody else had seen the expression. For he was sure that if they had, they would have struck him down and immediately brought him back to the Order to be questioned in more detail. No questions asked.

Harry narrowed his eyes and automatically took a step back. Hand resting on his wand as he watched the youngest Riddle walk towards he and those he considered to be his family.

"Where did you go?", Hermione asked him as soon as he was within hearing range.

Percy was suddenly very glad for the pre-prepared excuse that the goblin had given him when they had been sorting through his family's vault.

"The goblin told me that I was the heir to the Riddle vault and took me straight down. Sorry, I suppose I should have told you before I just walked off down some dark tunnels with a goblin, huh?", he said with an easy smile. The lie slipped off his tongue easily. Once upon a time, Percy would have been appalled with himself just _how_ easily. But after Tartarus, he wouldn't put anything past himself anymore.

Hermione nodded and released a tension-filled breath, as though all her questions had been answered. But Percy could still feel the rest of the family's distrustful glares on him.

"Yeah? Than how'd you get into the vault? You don't have the key", Ron asked, hazel eyes narrowing.

Percy's grin never wavered, but those who knew him would have been able to tell quite easily that it was fake.

"Blood", he answered simply. "An enchanted piece of parchment and a drop of blood were all I needed to confirm my identify and gain me access to the vault".

Ron opened his mouth to protest and then immediately closed it again. He didn't really know how Gringotts worked. Especially for all these really old pureblood families. For all he knew, that was true and he was simply being paranoid.

But Harry wasn't quite as willing to let go.

"And the Latin?", he asked.

Percy grinned. "So you recognized that, huh? Let me guess... Hermione?".

Said girl blushed.

"I learned it at a summer camp that I go to in America every summer".

Harry frowned. No matter how much he looked, he couldn't find anything overly suspicious about his reasoning. And he couldn't very well accuse him of having a scary look in his eye. That would never work.

"Now then!", Percy started, clapping his hands together and striding purposefully through the group towards the door. "I believe we still have a great deal of shopping left to do".

Ron groaned, making his mother and sister laugh. And they were off again.

—

"Okay. All there's left to get you now is a wand and a pet", Mrs. Weasley said, consulting their list as they walked out of Madam Malkins' Robe Shop.

It was quite the hilarious ordeal watching Percy get fitted. He kept fidgeting, and then the witch would accidentally be poke her with her needles, and then he would yelp and jump away just to be poked by another one on the other side of his body. It didn't help that all the way through the whole ordeal Percy kept complaining about how baggy and dress-like the robes were.

Needless to say, when they had finally finished, the twins had tears in their eyes from laughing so hard.

"Alright, alright, you two. Leave poor Percy alone", she said, thankfully stopping their teasing before his face grew too red. "We'll get your wand next, dear. Ollivander's is just up here".

Percy squinted up at the sign as the group made their way towards the little shop.

"Makers of wands since... 392 _BC?_!", he asked incredulously.

"Yep. Everybody gets their wands from Ollivander's", Hermione answered, waving her own wand proudly.

When they walked in, Percy was surprised to find that the shop was quite dark. Compared to the colourful and bright hustle and bustle of every other shop they had been to in Diagon Alley so far, Percy's initial instinct would be that something was wrong. But nobody else seemed alarmed, so he figured that it must be normal.

His eyes had just been browsing the rows upon rows of strange long boxes when it seemed that a man just appeared in front of him. He hadn't heard him come in, there was no telltale sound of apparition. Just... one second he wasn't there, and the next he was.

"Oh shi— I mean... Where did you come from?", Percy said, hastily correcting himself at the glare that Mrs. Weasley had shot him. Fred and George were just barely able to stifle their laughs.

The man seemed to ignore him, simply choosing to just stare at him with pale grey eyes. It was only slightly unnerving.

"Perseus Riddle", he finally said in a thin, airy voice.

Percy started at the use of his full name. His entire body tensing up despite himself.

"It's Jackson, actually. Percy Jackson".

The man didn't seem to hear him. Instead, he turned around and began walking up and down the various aisles of shelves with surprising spryness considering how old he looked.

When he came back, he had a stack of boxes so high he couldn't see over them.

"You will be an interesting case, I'm sure", the man, Ollivander, said as he peered at him through glass-like eyes. "All Riddles are".

Percy would have protested the use of that name again, but he sense there would be no point.

"Now then", the old wand maker said, opening the first box on top of the pile, "Holly with a Unicorn Hair core, 11 inches long, rigid". Gently, the wand was placed in Percy's hand. He didn't really know what to do with it, and so stood there for a few moments, awkwardly holding it in his hand without knowing what to do.

"Well? Go on then! Give it a wave".

And so he did. And the wand proceeded to explode.

Again and again and again. With each new wand he tried, more bad things happened. By the time they had reached the bottom of the stack of boxes, the shop looked all but completely destroyed.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Olllivander. I really don't know what I'm doing wrong". Percy really did feel bad. The shop was completely torn apart, and by the man's older appearance, it would take him ages to get everything cleaned up.

"You have done nothing wrong. You are just a very peculiar young man, as I suspected you would be. I had hoped— But no. It seems it is the only one left". With that mysterious half-completed sentence, he shuffled back into the dark depths of the shop.

When he returned, he was carrying only a single box. Percy felt drawn to it. As it was set on the counter between them, his hand seemed to move on his own to open the box. **(A/N: There's a picture of the wand at the top).**

Inside, was a rather dark, tan wood wand. The handle was carved perfectly smoothly, yet the rest of it was rough and uneven. It seemed to glow with a sea-green light, and as soon as he had picked it up and given it a flick, that light expanded until it had covered the entire shop and everyone in it. Percy felt like he did whenever he created his own hurricane, except this sort of wind was magical, and not at all violent. It ruffled his hair like a sea breeze, and the smell of sea salt that he loved so much filled the air.

When it was over, all the destruction that had been caused by his wand-choosing process had been reversed. The shop looked just as it did when they had first entered. Better even. Dust no longer coated every surface, and the ornate wood furnishings now shone as though they had been freshly polished.

The Weasley family, Harry, Hermione, and Sirius the dog gaped, but neither Percy nor Ollivander paid them any mind.

"Yew wood, Dragon Heartstring Core, 10 3/4 inches long, and very flexible".

Sea-green orbs looked up to meet pale grey as the wandmaker uttered something that would stay with Percy for the rest of his life.

"Death has followed you, child. And it always will. With a wand like that, you could either be the light's greatest protector, or the darkness' greatest asset. Beware, Perseus Riddle. Beware the fate that awaits you. I fear it may not be a pleasant one".

And with that, the old man shuffled off, back into the shadows of his shop until they couldn't see him anymore.

 _A vague warning that foretells his direct involvement in saving the entire world?_

 _Why was he even surprised anymore._


	11. Chapter 8

Percy was upstairs packing away all of his new wizard things in a borrowed trunk when he heard exclamations and celebration from downstairs.

Confused, he left his things and headed down the stairs to go and check it out.

"What's going on?". Harry looked rather awkward where he stood next to his two friends. It seemed he had arrived at a good time.

"Ron and Hermione got prefect!", Mrs. Weasley crowed, looking on at the both of them with pride.

Hermione explained what is was to him off to the side before he could even ask.

"Blimey! I never thought that I'd make prefect. I always thought it'd be Harry", Ron said, obviously completely oblivious to the discomfort he was causing his friend.

"Yeah. So did I", Harry muttered, too low for Ron to hear. He forced a smile and walked away to join his godfather in moping around on the other side of the room.

The jealousy and competition between those two could cause a real problem. Especially if all of these years living in fame as the 'Boy-Who-Lived' has started to get to Harry's head. They were good friends, no doubt about it. And Harry'd definitely need him if he was going to survive the next few years. The resistance against Voldemort had better just hope petty teenage drama wouldn't mess up everything they'd been working towards.

Percy shook his head to clear away his troublesome thoughts and eyed the owl that had delivered the news on the other side of the room with distrust.

After five years being friends with and then later on dating Annabeth, one would think that Athena would have accepted it. But apparently not.

Percy's attempt at buying a magical pet had been a disaster. As soon as he had walked into the store, all of the owls turned to stare at him. There had been a moment of silence before, all at once, the owls went crazy and tried to attack him.

Lots of yelling, profuse apologising, and cleaning charms later, and Percy was finally able to leave the pet shop with his pet. And it was _certainly_ not an owl, thank you very much!

For Percy, it was settled. Those freaking birds were evil, and he didn't care how much his fiancée loved them, nothing would ever change his mind.

In the end, he had come by his new pet through his discovery of a new power. Apparently, he could talk to snakes as well as horses and sea creatures.

He'd heard the snake laughing at him as he was trying to get the bird poop out of his hair and told it to shut up. He thought it was just a talking snake. He wouldn't have been all that surprised if that was true with all the other stuff that had been happening to him lately. But apparently that wasn't normal, which had led to a whole new conversation about parseltongue which was apparently an ability he had gained from his grandfather.

Who knew?

Needless to say, Harry and company were now ten times more suspicious of him. As if he'd tell his perfectly harmless blue corn snake to attack them. Besides, from what he'd heard, Harry was a parseltongue too.

Mrs. Weasley was running around the house in a tizzy. A grin threatened to split her face completely in half, and a banner already decorated the entrance to the kitchen.

Percy smiled to himself as he watched her. Her happiness was both amusing and contagious, and a full blown party was now in swing. It was good to see all the Order members who were usually so serious and gloomy having a good time. Percy didn't know exactly how, but somehow he got the feeling that that wouldn't last for much longer.

"You okay, dear?", Mrs. Weasley asked him as she passed.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and nodded.

"Yeah. I was just thinking", he saw the spark of concern in her eyes that he always saw in his own mother's. He wasn't in the mood to be interrogated, so he turned the conversation to the one topic he knew she could talk about forever at that point.

"So... It's an exciting thing, Ron getting prefect and all".

Immediately her eyes lit up and she seemed to forget all about the lecture he was sure she was about to give.

He let her talk on, nodding and making various other confirming noises whenever he was supposed to, but not otherwise paying any attention. He didn't really know Ron all that well. And the time he _had_ spent with him hadn't been all that pleasant. He didn't want to say he didn't care because that would be mean and his mother had raised him better than that, but...

He didn't care.

Thankfully, Mrs. Weasley was soon pulled away by somebody else and he was able to escape away to the kitchen to try and find a glass of water.

"Not fond of parties?", a voice asked from behind him, taking him by surprise.

He spun around to find none other than Remus Lupin leaning up against the wall. He looked like he was trying to hide and Percy didn't blame him. The wizards were a rather boisterous lot. Not that he could judge. The demigods were probably worse. He just never noticed it since he was one of the ones making all the noise. It was much easier being at a party with people you actually liked.

"Usually I am. It's just different here. I don't really know anybody", he replied, taking a sip of his water.

Remus nodded understandingly, and they lapsed into a sort of awkward silence.

And of course, his ADHD mind reasoned, silences were made to be broken. So he said the first thing that popped into his head.

"Has anybody ever told you that your name is literally 'Wolf Wolf'?".

He groaned in annoyance and a small smile crossed Percy's face.

"Only all the time when my friends and I were growing up. It was like a running joke with them. Especially because of what I am...", he trailed off, the mention his affliction putting a damper on their conversation.

"I'm sorry for your loss", Percy said with all the sincerity he could muster. He knew from his own experiences that those words didn't mean anything. Especially when you'd lost someone you were really close to.

His face saddened further.

"They're not all gone, you know. Sirius is still here. Just outside that door", he added, taking a couple steps closer to the broken man.

A deep sadness and loneliness that Percy could tell stemmed directly from his childhood filled Remus' eyes.

"Is he really, though? He'd been in Azkaban for _12 years_. I don't know if that man out there is the same boy who was my best friend, and I don't know if I—". His voice rose in intensity as he spoke, and it cracked with emotion before he could finish.

"You don't know if you can bear to find out?", Percy guessed sadly. He regretted realising that his assumption was right when Remus bowed his head to avoid meeting his eyes. "Remus, if there's one thing I've ever learned in my life, it's that people change. As you said, he's been in prison for 12 years. He's going to be a little bit damaged, a little bit broken. But he's still the same friend you always knew, Remus. You've just got to be there for him. He was there for you when you were younger, now it's your turn to return the favour".

Percy gave the man what he hoped was a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making his way out of the kitchen and back into the mayhem that was the party. He knew from his own unfortunate experiences that decisions like that had to be made on your own.

As he walked away, he couldn't help but smile to himself as he thought of what Thalia and Nico would think of the mini speech he'd just made.

 _Since when had he become so deep?_

His metal hand caught the light of the nearby candles, throwing the occasional splotch of bronze light on the wall. It was a reminder of all he'd lost in the two potentially world-ending wars he now found himself to be a veteran of.

Even after only being in this world for three days he could still tell that a war was coming. A war that would largely be fought with mere children. That was an experience nobody should ever have to go through, and one he certainly wasn't too keen on going through again.

He yawned, and it was only then that he realised just how tired he was. He was used to the PTSD induced nightmares keeping him up all night. But they weren't as bad when he was sleeping next to Annabeth. He hadn't slept away from her in so long he'd almost forgotten how bad it could be without her. Now he was forced into it. And if there was one thing he could say to lighten the mood, it was that he missed sleep.

Deciding that this party really wasn't for him, he decided to call it a night and head upstairs to bed early.

As he walked up the stairs towards the room he continued to share with Bill, however, something caused him to pause.

There was a loud rattling coming from one of the rooms that Sirius had closed off for cleaning. A rather old, antique desk shook violently on its legs, almost as though its contents were trying to escape.

"Hello? Is there something in there?", he asked. But he was greeted by only silence. Of course, that didn't particularly help how stupid he felt talking to a desk.

His footsteps caused the old floorboards beneath his feet to groan as he crept through the remarkably dusty room.

The desk shook more forcefully now. And he was now thoroughly convinced that there was something trapped inside of it. Though what it was he didn't know.

 _Should he open it? It could be something harmful. But at the same time, if it wasn't harmful, it could be suffocating in there._

He didn't know what to do. And so, following his natural inclination to impulsive decisions, he turned the key and yanked open the drawers, deciding that he could just deal with whatever came out.

What _did_ come out, however, was something that both confused and scared him. Because what stalked towards him now, was _him_. An exact replica of himself as he looked down in Tartarus: from the cut up clothes that hung off his body in shreds to the large bloody gashes that decorated his entire body. What scared him most, however, was not the fact that some sort of magical doppelgänger had just come out of a desk drawer, but the look in the doppelganget's eyes.

It was a look he knew all too well. A look that showed that he was willing to do _anything_ to survive. A look of desperation and need, of anger and anguish and sadness all mixed up until he couldn't tell which was which. His eyes glowed a sickly poisonous green, and an insane grin was stretched across his face.

Percy knew exactly what was causing that grin. If he was being honest with himself, he still felt its pull from time to time whenever he used his powers: the feeling of raw power that flowed through his veins like the rage of the sea- wild, untameable, and completely and utterly unstoppable.

Percy stumbled backwards, blindly attempting to escape and lock whatever that _thing_ that wore his face was inside. But it followed him just as quickly. He kept backing up, step by step, until there wasn't anything but empty air behind him. Before he could regain his balance in his surprise, he toppled over backwards, tumbling down the stairs in a series of crashes and bangs that had the party below him grinding to an alarmed halt.

He came to rest right in the middle of the living room. His entire body hurt and he was sure he was going to wake up tomorrow with a whole host of new bruises. But now wasn't the time for that.

He scrambled to his feet, his hands automatically going for the dagger he always kept strapped to his thigh, only to curse as he realised that the wizards still had them from when they confiscated them from him when he first arrived.

It stalked towards him, its footsteps near silent as it stalked him like a predator does his prey. As _he_ stalked him like a predator. Because no matter what this creature was, it was taking the form of something he feared the most: himself. Or more accurately, the darkness inside of him.

"W-What are you?", he asked shakily before steeling himself and slipping back into his natural role as an infallible leader. "What do you want?".

"Perseus Jackson", it whispered, his voice nothing but a hoarse whisper. "Do you not recognise me?".

The wizards stood silent and frozen around the edges of the room, their eyes wide in terror and confusion.

"Perseus. The Destroyer. A fitting name, I think".

It's face and body changed, morphing until it formed a perfect imitation of his beautiful Wise Girl. But her face was curled into a snarl of disgust and venom.

"You dare call yourself a hero?", it said in her voice. "You're nothing but another monster".

It changed back into his own face as he was in Tartarus. Small poisonous plants that he recognised from Achlys' garden decorated the area around where he stood, and the poison slowly crept across the floor towards him. He stepped back away from it and the fumes, his eyes were wide with terror.

He couldn't do anything about it. He promised Annabeth that he would never do anything like that ever again. But the poison just crept closer.

"Go on. Control it like you do everything and everybody else".

Percy's back hit the wall and he slid down it until he was sat on the floor.

"You'll never get rid of me", he said in a mocking sing-song voice. " _Never_!".

" _Riddikulus!_ ", someone cried. There was a sudden bolt of light and the creature along with his poison disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Percy couldn't move. He felt as though ice water had been poured down his back. And for the first time, he was able to experience first had what it was like to be at the receiving end of one of his own glares. He was paralysed, there, on the floor. His mind whirled out of control, flitting from memory to memory. At each new scene that came to life behind his eyelids, more and more tears spilled down his cheeks. Grief and self-loathing coursed through his body in waves, causing pain so real he would have thought it was physical had there been a specific point on his body it was originating from. But there wasn't. Instead, it seemed to affect his whole being at once. Like a deep ache that would never ever go away.

His brain seemed to be short-circuiting. He was vaguely aware of all the wizards gathered around him asking him questions. But his brain seemed capable of only one thought.

 _"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so_ _sorry"._

It repeated like a mantra inside of his head. But not matter how many times he said it he knew it would never be enough.

What use was 'sorry' when all his friends and family that had relied on him, _trusted_ him, were dead?

Black spots began to gather at the edges of his vision. And faintly, he became aware that he was hyperventilating.

When the darkness came for him he welcomed it. Anything, even his nightmares, was better than the all-consuming pain of his grief.

—

The Order and the Junior Order, as Sirius had taken to jokingly calling them, were once again gathered around the meeting/ kitchen table shrouded in tense silence.

After Percy's mini freak out and subsequent passing out, Mrs. Weasley had told them to get him back upstairs and into his bed.

It had taken Harry, Ron, and both twins to carry him up the first flight of stairs before Hermione finally bustled past and levitated him behind her with a quick wave of her wand.

"Okay, if nobody else is going to, let me just be the first to say, what the hell?", a random Order member who had arrived for the party said. They sounded more exasperated with the entire situation than anything, and Harry could understand why.

Since Percy had arrived, their lives had been nothing but them asking that same question over and over again at every action he made. None of this was normal. And nobody knew how to react beyond those three words.

"Yeah. I mean who's worst fear is themselves anyway?", Ron asked, sounding skeptical.

Professor Lupin (for he would always be a professor to Harry) made a sort of tutting sound and interrupted the growing debate.

"Only the wisest who wield great power know to be afraid of it", he said.

"Oh, lighten up a bit, Moony. There's no need to be so deep all the time" ,Sirius said, bumping his friend's shoulder playfully.

"But how would he have experience with great power if he's only just found out he's a wizard?", Hermione asked thoughtfully.

"Unless he didn't!", Harry cried. This was the evidence he was looking for to support what he already knew to be true. "Think about it. Percy's already a death eater. He was probably recruited by his good old grandad and his followers when he was still small. He's probably been using magic for a long time, now. He'd been trying to trick us into trusting him!".

This rather extreme outlook on recent events sparked a whole new debate amongst the members of the Order. Dumbledore knew better than to interrupt them when they got in such a state, and instead clasped his hands together on the table in front of him and waited for them to notice.

"I assure you", he say once they'd all calmed down, "Perseus Jackson had no knowledge of his magical heritage before now".

"How do you know?!", Harry challenged.

Dumbledore only turned to look at him passively before slowly turning to address the entire Order.

"I have lived for a very long time. In that time I have learned much, and if there is one thing I know, it is how to distinguish the truth". He looked around at all of them, drawing out the silence. "Faith. We must all have faith if we are to win this inevitable war. We must not squabble amongst ourselves now".

All around the room members of the Order nodded their agreement. Only a few still remained uncertain and suspicious. But everybody in that room held at least a small amount of respect for Dumbledore, and he was saying that Percy was trustworthy. They would leave him... for now. But let it never be said that they wouldn't be watching him.

Nobody but Remus seemed to realise that Dumbledore never really answered Harry's question, but he knew he wouldn't say anything. For some unknown reason he couldn't name, the werewolf trusted the boy. There was just something about him that made you want to trust him. Sure, there were times when he'd look into those eyes and see the unexplainable sadness or anger there that could only come from one's own memories. But who was he to judge? Everybody had a past. But the past was just that... the past. It didn't matter anymore.

Besides... the kid gave good advice.

"Now off to bed with all of you! An exciting new school year awaits when you wake".


	12. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Hey guys! You know me (at least I hope you do by now), I don't normally do these kinds of things before chapters, but if you were about to skip ahead please DON'T.**_

 _ **:)**_

 _ **Great... Now that I have your attention. I just wanted to give a shout out to the wonderful, the amazing, the talented, callieclark22.**_

 _ **She is the creator of my beautiful new cover artwork. And I just wanted to thank her- it's amazing, and I love it. Not to mention, I am now no longer at risk of my work being taken down because of an image I stole off the internet, so thank you for that too.**_

 _ **If you guys have stories of your own in desperate need of a proper cover image like mine was, I'm sure that she'd love it if you took a look at her Cover Shop that she has open as one of her works on her profile. I know she's already done several (including mine), and they're absolutely beautiful.**_

 _ **P.S. This is sadly only applicable to Wattpad users. Now that I've uploaded this to as well, I realise that this might not make much sense to some of you. I apologise. Please just ignore this. Unless you**_ **do** ** _want to go check her out on Wattpad. In which case that works too. :)_**

 **Alright... now onto the title change! (phew this is a long author's note). Never fear my faithful readers! The story has not changed at all. I am still planning on writing it the way I originally planned it out to be written. I just figured that the title was kind of unoriginal. (not to mention that there's about a million other 'Grandson of Voldemort's currently floating out there somewhere)**

 **As always, I hope you guys _love_ the chapter. Feel free to give this story a vote or even drop a comment. I most definitely get childishly excited whenever they appear in my inbox. And will _most definitely_ do my best to answer any questions you may have. (unless it's a spoiler for the story, in which case, [*tsk tsk tsk, reader] NO SPOILERS!)**

 **Bye, my lovelies! :3**

 _Percy floated in numb desensitised darkness for the longest time before he was finally able to reel his emotions back in and become aware of his surroundings._

 _Purely from the fact that he was floating and found himself unable to move he knew that he was in some sort of dream state. Chances were that some god or other ancient being had called him here to talk to him. For what reason he still did not know._

 _"Very good, Perseus Jackson. We knew we were not wrong about you", three voices said in sync from behind him._

 _His heart dropped and he groaned in exasperation before turning around to face the three sisters that he knew were waiting there for him._

 _They needed him for something._ _ **Again.**_

 _As his eyes set on them again, his mind settled on his memory from the last time he'd seen them all those years ago. That was where everything had started._

 _Emotions rolled through him along with the memories, but he pushed them back before they could overwhelm him, silently chastising himself for being so weak lately._

 _"Why?", he managed to croak out._

 _Why had they made his life so miserable?_

 _Why had they taken so much away from him?_

 _And why would they possibly need him again?_

 _Atropos smiles at him sadly an pulled out a bright sea green thread that was intertwined with grey._

 _Percy caught his breath at both the sight of the string that confirmed what he already knew, and the fact that one of the Fates was holding it. All it would take was one snip._

 _"What do you want?", he asked, more carefully this time so as not to draw their anger while they literally held his life in their hands._

 _Atropos shifted the thread so that she was holding it more carefully, as if cradling a baby._

 _"By all rights, Perseus Jackson. You should have died long ago". She pulled out an overly large pair of elaborate shears, and he looked away, waiting for the inevitable snipping sound that would mark the end of his life._

 _But it never came._

 _He looked back to see his thread glowing with a golden light. Kind of similar to the light that gods made when they flashed in and out of places. The shears were frozen in place about 5 inches away and didn't seem to want to move any closer than that._

 _"As you can see", Atropos spoke after a few moments of shocked silence, "there is something, or rather someone, who believes you still have a purpose in this life"._

 _"The only being with the power to interfere with our decisions is our mother, Ananke, primordial of inevitability and fate", Lachesis said, taking over for her sister._

 _A new sense of dread filled him as he heard that. The last time a primordial had taken an interest in him, the world had almost ended. He wasn't too eager for that to happen again._

 _Lachesis smiled kindly at him._

 _"Do not worry, young hero. Our mother is already among the realm of the faded. Your string, it seems, was created a very long time ago"._

 _"Our mother's involvement is a terrible omen. She has seen what is to come, and she has decided that you are needed to stop it", Clotho rumbled._

 _"A terrible fate awaits you, Destroyer. One even you may not be able to avoid", Atropos said. The string and shears erupted into a shower of gold dust and blew away._

 _"Does this have something to do with the coming war in the Wizarding World? They told me that it was my grandfather who was the dark wizard trying to destroy the world. They all hate me there. Their hero_ _hasn't even given me a chance". He wasn't entirely sure why he was venting his frustrations to the Fates of all beings, but they didn't seem to mind._

 _"You and Harry Potter are more alike then you think, Perseus", Clotho said in a tone of voice that could almost be mistaken for chastising._

 _Percy scoffed._

 _"Tell me, child. What would you do if a half-blood child of Kronos were to appear at camp? How would you treat them? Would you trust them right away? Or would you view them with suspicion and distrust?", Lachesis asked._

 _That struck a chord within him. They were right. He wouldn't have immediately trusted any child of Kronos. He wouldn't kill them, obviously, but he would still keep an eye on them and their actions. Especially around his family._

 _"Do not judge those you do not know, Perseus Jackson. Just like you, Harry Potter has experienced great tragedy and grief. Those you have recently met in the wizarding world are all he has left of a family, and he will protect them"._

 _The darkness he was floating in began to get lighter, and he knew he was beginning to wake up._

 _"Remember what we have told you, Perseus", Atropos said as they began to disappear, "Trust is earned, not given". And then they were gone._

Percy woke to the sound of chaos.

His senses were all immediately on red alert when he heard all the noise, his battle senses kicking in and making him automatically alert from all those times he had woken up to a similar amount of noise in the middle of a war. Thankfully, this wasn't a war. Well... at least not the kind that he was used to.

As he got out of bed he—

 _Wait a minute. Bed?! Since when had he gotten here?!_

Just like that all of his memories from the previous night came flooding back. He felt like banging his head against the wall.

 _In the last 48 hours, he'd passed out from panic attacks almost as often as Jason was knocked out from blows to the head during the Giant War. And that was saying something!_

With his new memories of having passed out ( _again!),_ he figured that somebody must have moved him to his bed for the night.

He quickly changed into his clothes that he had laid out for himself to wear when he was packing the night before, and threw the clothes he'd slept in into his trunk before making his way outside to find out what could _possibly_ be causing all the noise.

As it turned out, none of the Weasley children had found it necessary to pack for the boarding school they were leaving for _the next day_ , and were all now running around the house frantically looking for things like chickens with their heads cut off while their mother yelled at them. Well... except for Ron. Hermione had Ron covered for her.

Overall, the entire ordeal was rather amusing. And he spied Remus on the other side of the room leaning up against the wall and attempting to hide his smile. Sirius came up behind him and must have made a joke or something else hilarious, because at that point Remus gave up entirely on hiding his amusement and burst into laughter.

It was funny... Percy always seemed to forget how young the two of them really were. But in that moment he could see it. The look of solemn maturity that always seemed to be present in their eyes stemming from being forced to grow up too young too fast disappeared, and the young men they actually were replaced it.

Percy didn't think he'd ever seen the scarred man smile. In a way, he reminded him of Nico. Because when he did smile, it seemed to light up the entire room.

Even from across the house, Percy could see the adoring way Sirius looked at his friend as he laughed. He recognised that look. It was one that he wore whenever he looked at Annabeth, and one that Will Solace wore when he was taking care of Nico in the infirmary.

Love. Pure and deep love.

Remus didn't seem to notice, though, and soon the moment was gone.

Percy frowned. He now understood why Grover got so worked up whenever he talked about the quests in the early years with him and Annabeth. He decided to walk over the join them.

"Hello Remus", he said with a smile, "Sirius".

Harry's godfather had treated him with nothing but suspicion and hostility since he'd arrived. But after his conversation with the Fates, he decided to give them a chance.

"Hello Percy", Remus smiled back at him, and Sirius shot Percy an annoyed look over his friend's shoulder.

 _Whoops. Looks like he'd interrupted something._

Percy only smirked in response and gave Remus a knowing look. He blushed.

"So what's actually going on here?", he asked, gesturing vaguely to the chaos behind him.

"Oh this happens every year", Remus said with a fond smile. "I'm surprised those boys haven't given poor Molly a heart attack yet".

A muffled crash followed by a pained yelped suddenly sounded from the other room cutting off their conversation. All three men rushed inside to see what had happened only to find Mrs. Weasley fussing over Ginny who was sprawled on the ground.

"Ginny! Are you alright?", Remus asked, rushing forward to help the young witch to her feet.

Percy stayed back, instead choosing to look around for whatever had caused the fall. When he spied the twins at the top of the stairs, he sighed and braced himself for an explosion from Mrs. Weasley.

Sure enough, not even five seconds later, Mrs. Weasley noticed her two guilty-looking sons at the top of the stairs and marched up, pulling them down the steps by their ears.

"Ow!".

"Mum! Let us go!".

"We're sorry! _Ow_ , mum!".

Percy tuned out as Mrs. Weasley proceeded to harshly reprimand her two trouble-making children for potentially harming their sister, and instead decided to focus on Harry.

After his little dream talk with the Fates, he saw the boy in a new light. Once he understood that his actions were purely out of protection for his family, he found himself relating to and respecting the boy a lot more.

In fact, under closer inspection, Percy could tell that he and Harry were alike in more ways than one. One way, in particular, that made his blood boil.

When Percy had first met Harry, he had noticed that the by was rather scrawny. But he'd chalked it up to British male genetics and let it go. Since then, he'd really had no reason to study him in more detail. Now that he did, he didn't like what he saw.

Yes, it was true, Harry Potter was very skinny. But it wasn't just a scrawny kind of skinny, it was a malnourishment kind of skinny. The kind of thinness that makes your clothes hang off of you like drapes and your joints stuck out and look much larger and knobbier than they really are.

Percy has seen these symptoms before. He'd seen it in a few of the younger demigods when they first arrived at camp.

Malnourishment. Neglect. Percy wouldn't be surprised if his hated aunt and uncle actually locked him in his room for the whole summer.

Percy's eyes immediately began to examine the parts of Harry's body that he could see, but thankfully he didn't see any scars or old bruises. He wasn't stupid, Percy knew that the physical abuse he's suffered under Gabe was just one type of abuse one could suffer: maybe not even the worst kind. He was glad Harry didn't have to go through that, but it didn't change the facts.

Abuse. Harry was being abused, and nobody was doing anything about it. Percy felt the righteous anger building up inside of him.

Whatever the circumstances were, it was _never_ okay to knowingly leave a child in an abusive home. _Ever_.

The psychological trauma growing up in an environment like that would do to someone could never be undone. He knew that personally, out of everything that had happened to him in his life, Poseidon leaving he and his mother to suffer under that monster for years the way he had was one thing he would never forgive his father for.

Percy knew that Sirius loved his godson, so either he didn't know, or Percy had seriously misjudged the man.

"So Sirius", Percy said by way of starting a conversation.

The small amused smile he had been wearing as he watched the next generation of pranksters get told off by their mother melted away to be replaced by a scowl.

He didn't reply, but Percy knew he had his attention.

"If you have to live here in this big house by yourself all year than why doesn't Harry just come stay with you?".

A flash of annoyance crossed the older man's face at the reminder of his impending isolation, but it was soon replaced by insecurity and suspicion.

"Oh I'm sure he'd much rather spend his summers with his real family. Why do you want to know?". His eyes narrowed in suspicion, but Percy elected to just ignore it.

His mind spun. Sirius didn't know, and he supposed that that was a good thing, it meant that he hadn't left his godson to be abused on purpose. But now Percy was faced with the challenge of how to tip him off without actually directly telling him. It wasn't his secret to tell... it was Harry's. But at the same time, if he didn't give the man a nudge in the right direction, nothing would ever change.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. I heard him mentioning that he doesn't really like his relatives that much".

 _That's an understatement._

"You might want to ask him about what he actually does over the summers".

Thankfully, Sirius picked up on the hints in his voice, and his suspicion was replaced by concern for Harry.

"What do you mean?".

"Well, it's just... doesn't he seem a bit too skinny to you?".

It took him a few moments, but Sirius soon got what he had been hinting at, and his eyes soon burned with cold fury.

He marched over to the other side of the room, where Harry was standing with his trunk. All the loud yelling from Mrs. Weasley and her children was thankfully over by that point, but there was still a fair number of people left milling about in the room.

As soon as he reached his godson he engulfed him in a hug that may or may not have been just slightly too tight.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?", he asked lowly so that only Harry could hear him.

Harry spluttered. "W-What? About what? What's going on, Sirius?".

Sirius pulled back and held his godson at arm's length, his grey eyes boring into Harry's green ones. "Harry, how are things in the summer? With your family in Little Whinging? Do they treat you alright?".

Harry's eyes widened and he took a step away. Percy recognised that fear that shone in the younger boy's eyes, and so when Harry's eyes met his from across the room, he gave him a small encouraging nod to give him the strength to drive off that fear and tell his godfather the truth.

"I-I", he stammered, but soon sighed, defeated, "Not good". He hung his head in defeat and shame, but contrary to the reaction Harry _thought_ his admission would get, Sirius just pulled him in for another hug. A _stronger_ hug if that were somehow possible. "I'm sorry", Harry stated, his voice cracking. All the emotions that he had ever felt and repressed suddenly spilled out, as though out of a cracked dam. This summer had been especially rough for him, and now after the trial and everything that had been going on lately, it just made the absence of any sort of parental figure in his life that much more notable. He missed something he'd never even had. Tears gathered and soon spilled out of his eyes, but Sirius didn't care.

 _Sirius didn't care._ He didn't think he was weak. He still loved him.

"You're never going back there ever again. You'll stay with me", Sirius took in a deep breath, and it was clear he was fighting back some tears of his own, "I failed James and Lily once. I won't fail them again. Not in this".

Percy turned away after that, allowing them their privacy. He was just glad that he could help.

The chaos was quickly picking back up again after the drama of the last 15 minutes or so, and Percy dashed back up the stairs to retrieve his own trunk of things.


	13. Chapter 10

"You want me to do what?!", Percy asked incredulously.

 _Were these people crazy?_

He could see Fred and George standing with the rest of them in the background frantically attempting to smother their laughter.

Mrs. Weasley sighed. The amount of times that she had had this conversation was beginning to get a little ridiculous.

"I assure you, it's perfectly safe, Percy dear", she said again, giving him and the trunk that he was carrying a gentle shove in the right direction.

Percy stared from her, to the wall she wanted him to supposedly 'walk through', and back again dubiously

"It's easier if you get a running start, mate!", one of the twins called out to him before they both burst into laughter.

 _'Go with the wizards, they said. It'll be fun, they said',_ he thought to himself, throwing them a mild glare.

He glanced at the wall again. It looked like a perfectly normal brick wall. The sign for platform 10 was above it, and supposedly, through it, was platform 9 3/4. He was about to refuse and make somebody else go first when something caught his eye. It was a slight shimmering, sort of like the borders of camp. He took a few steps closer to examine it.

Behind him, the Weasley Family, Harry, Hermione, and Sirius the dog all looked at each other in confusion. Just two seconds ago he had been adamantly refusing to go through the barrier and onto the platform. But now his eyes were narrowed slightly, and he was walking towards it like Hermione walks towards the library when she'd on a mission.

"These mood swings of his are going to give me whiplash", Fred muttered to George. Harry silently agreed.

Something had changed that morning, between him and Percy. It was like he had woken up that morning with a completely new perspective; never mind all of the frankly awful things Harry had said to him. And then he had just _known_. He'd somehow known something that Harry had been keeping secret for years without any outward clues from the boy himself.

 _'How was that possible?'_ , Harry thought to himself.

However it was, Harry knew that somehow, Percy had just changed his entire life just by stepping into it.

 _He would never have to go back to the Dursleys ever again!_

Happiness still flowed through him at the most random of times. He smiled a bright smile for no reason at all according to his family around him and joined in Fred and George's teasing of Percy who was still examining the wall suspiciously. Sirius as Padfoot stuck close by his side, watching everything with a cautious eye, but even his eyes seemed to be alight with a certain level of amusement watching the newest addition to their house poke around the barrier.

Finally, Percy decided to just go for it, and stuck the entire length of his metal arm through the magical barrier. That way, he figured, if it really was something dangerous, he could always just get a new arm.

He pulled it back out, and miraculously (at least according to him), his arm was still there, perfectly fine and unharmed in any way.

"Whoa", he said, sticking his arm in and out of the barrier multiple times as a test with his eyes wide with child-like excitement.

This prompted a whole new round of laughter from the crowd of wizards behind him.

Someone crept up behind him, and before he could do anything, shoved his entire body through the barrier. His yelp was cut off as he went through, leaving a very satisfied looked Fred and George behind.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head and gave her two sons a stern look, but she didn't reprimand them beyond that. They really were going to miss the train if Percy hadn't hurried up.

Percy gaped at the scenes around him on the other side of the magical barrier. A large and very red old-fashioned steam engine was waiting on the platform, the words 'Hogwarts Express' stencilled on the side. The platform was packed with various witches and wizards all bustling about. Children hung from the windows inside the train, waving goodbye to their parents standing on the platform. The architecture, just like in Diagon Alley was beautiful in a simple sort of way. It didn't come anywhere close to Olympus. But in a way, it wasn't fair to compare the two as they each held their beauty in two completely different ways.

He was distracted from his thoughts and comparisons by the Weasley twins who appeared on either side of him and guided him, with a certain pep in their step, towards the train.

"Come on, Percy"

"You can gawk at the train later"

"We've got some—"

"—people to introduce you to".

Percy grinned at their twin speak and let himself be guided away. They reminded him so much of Travis and Connor even though the sons of Hermes weren't actually twins. The four of them would have a lot of fun together, but for the safety and sanity of the wizarding world, he decided against introducing them.

The Weasley twins had begun to take a liking to Percy during his last few days in 12 Grimmauld Place. Especially once they'd discovered that he liked pranks.

Mrs. Weasley just sighed as she watched the three of them walk off. It looked as though the troublesome duo had just become a trio.

—

Percy sat with Fred and George in their compartment with their friend Lee for the ride on the way to Hogwarts. Although relations between him and Harry were beginning to get better, he didn't want to push it and intrude on his time with his friends. Besides, the Weasley twins were among the few who had immediately accepted him when he had first arrived, and if he was being honest with himself, he like them better.

Fred, George, and Lee were all about his age, but because he was new to the Wizarding World, he'd be attending Hogwarts two years below them, in Harry's year. He wasn't exactly looking forward to that. Though he _did_ love spending time with the younger kids, those were demigods: battle-hardened, mature, demigods. At camp, you could look into any 7 year old's eyes and wisdom beyond that in even the adults he'd met so far. He'd be able to hold a conversation with any one of them and know that, at least on a basic level, every one of them would understand him. The children here were actually just children. And even though the fifth years were technically 15, the petty squabbles he'd already witnessed this summer were evidence of exactly how mature those 15 year olds could be. He didn't know if he would be able to deal with being around that _all the time_.

He had taken to wearing the glove again- there was really no need to freak out everybody he met. He knew that Lee had noticed it, and was extremely grateful when he saw the boy make the conscious decision not to ask about it. It really was getting quite tiresome having to remember every little detail of the lie he had told about how he'd gotten it just so he could tell it again.

By the time the prefects came around to tell them to get changed into their school robes, Percy was going stir crazy. He'd obviously taken long journeys before, but that was with his family and the craziness of quests there to distract him. 7 uninterrupted hours in a closed off train carriage was a bit much.

The platform was abuzz with the same sort of noise that Platform 9 3/4 had been when the train finally arrived. It was chaotic: bags were flying everywhere- some being thrown and some literally flying- people yelling out to their friends, magical pets flying everywhere with no sign of their owners. He was just glad that his snake, Kyma- which meant 'wave' in Greek- was perfectly happy to just be curled up around his arm in the warmth of his sleeve.

"First years over here! First years over here, please!", a woman called, herding some of the impossibly small new wizards away from the crowds and towards some boats floating on the surface of a perfectly calm lake.

"Where's Hagrid?", he heard George ask Fred in a low voice that he could just barely hear from where he was next to them in the crowd.

"He must not be back yet. Dumbledore sent him on a mission, official Order stuff, a while ago", Fred replied. The two shared a look, looking about as grim and serious as he had ever seen them before they caught him looking at them and immediately pasted on matching grins.

"Come on with us, Percy!".

"Yeah, you don't want to go with all those first years".

"We can help you find McGonagall once we get to the castle".

"She'll be able to sort you out".

Percy decided to ignore the conversation he'd just overheard about some person named Hagrid and grinned back at them. "Who's McGonagall?".

Both twins immediately adopted over exaggerated, dramatic expressions.

"Dumbledore's right-hand woman".

"The destroyer of all wonderful prank ideas".

"aka Gryffindor's den mother", they said together in unison. Other Gryffindors who had overheard them nearby burst into laughter at the twins' antics, and together, along with the rest of the school's older population, they made their way towards the carriages in the distance.

Pulling the carriages, were the most interesting and beautiful horses he had ever seen.

 _'My Lord! My Lord!'_ , they called in his mind as he approached. They pranced around in place, making the carriages move back and forth. He hurriedly quieted them in his mind and looked around to see if anybody noticed. But to his immense surprise, nobody seemed to see the horses there at all.

 _'What are you?'_ , he asked telepathically, reaching out to stroke the muzzle of the nearest of them.

 _'We are threstals, my Lord! We were created through the cooperation of both Lord Hades and Lord Poseidon as an agreement of good will'_. Percy could definitely believe that. Although the threstals certainly had the general shape of a horse which was his father's creation, Lord Hades' involvement was very plainly obvious. The threstals appeared to have no meat or flesh whatsoever. Instead, their skin seemed to be pulled tight directly over bone. Their eyes were entirely black, and their heads seemed to look more like Peleus the dragon than anything. Still, he could tell they were gentle creatures, even with the sharp beaks they had instead of the normal soft muzzle.

Breaking eye contact with the threstal, who had told him his name was Akakios, Percy looked over to see Harry and his friends climbing into the carriage just in front of him. He could see Harry staring at the horses and looking around in confusion in much the same way he had before everything had been explained to him by the helpful threstal.

"—But what do you mean you can't see them? They're right there!", Harry exclaimed to Ron, looking quite frustrated as he gestured to the strange skeletal horse right in front of him.

"I'm sorry, mate. But there's nothing there", Ron said, looking genuinely sorry that he couldn't see whatever it was Harry was talking about.

"Don't worry, Harry. I can see them too, you're not crazy", a voice said from behind him. Judging from the way Ron's lips immediately curved down distastefully, he knew who it was standing behind him.

Despite his best friend's obvious dislike of their newest addition, however, Harry found himself having mixed feelings. Hermione's arguments still rang through his mind as fresh as the day she'd said them, and he knew that they were true. Percy hadn't done anything to them but help them out. And the only time he'd ever seemed dangerous or untrustworthy was when they specifically attacked him with insults or accusations. How else did he expect someone to act when he accused them of being a death eater?

With that newly changed outlook in mind, he turned around and offered the older boy the most genuine smile he could muster. At the moment, that wasn't all that big, but he could tell from the way Percy's eyes lit up that he appreciated the gesture.

"Well then what are they?", he asked, taking a step back to stand with his friends who were all looking at Percy with curiosity or, in Ron's case, open hostility.

Percy chose to ignore Ron and was about to answer Harry's question when someone he didn't recognise beat him to the punch. "They're called threstals", a blond-haired girl said. "They can only be seen by those who have seen death".

Percy was quite enjoying himself: hanging out with Fred, George, and Lee; even meeting some of Harry's other friends from school. But as soon as Luna said that, it put a serious dampener on his entire mood.

His thoughts darkened, taking him back to not just the more recent Giant War, but also the Titan War before it that none of them had really ever gotten a chance to get over. Next to him, Harry's face darkened in a similar way, and an unexpected wave of protectiveness washed over him. These were just children, and they acted that way because they could. Because they had the opportunity to really act their age and enjoy themselves without a looming death sentence hanging over their heads at all times that forced them to grow up too fast too soon. Right then, looking at the innocent 15 year-old faces gathered around him, he promised himself that he'd make sure they stayed that way. Happy and innocent, just like 15 year-olds should be.

"Death?", Ron squeaked.

Nobody answered, and Hermione, the friend who was most likely out of all of them to do so was studying Percy carefully. "You've seen death?", she eventually asked him.

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath to help dispel the fog of despair that suddenly threatened to take over his mind. "Too much", he whispered brokenly.

 _'Pull yourself together, man! They're all looking at you!'_ , his snake hissed at him from his spot wrapped around his arm. He didn't deign that with a response, but he knew Kyma was right. He couldn't afford to look weak now- he could never afford to look weak, but that was beside the point.

"I wish I could see them", Ron said, looking wistfully at the patch of air that, thanks to Harry and Percy, he knew contained one of these _'threstals'_.

Percy fixed him with a hard look that hid desperation. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that".

He blushed red as he realised how that must have sounded.

"No! I-I mean—I didn't mean... Sorry", he eventually said quietly, looking down.

"It's good so many of you can't see them. They're beautiful creatures, but...", he trailed off, but they all got what he was trying to say.

 _'My lord, we must go'_ , the threstal said, anxiously moving back and forth as all the other carriages took off towards the castle.

Percy nodded his head in the direction all the other carriages were moving and said, "I think we should get on now. All the other carriages are leaving".

Everybody nodded their heads in agreement, and the group broke apart and separated into the two remaining carriages. Percy, along with Fred, George, and Lee, climbed into the carriage behind the one the rest of the fifth years were riding in. The three friends next to him immediately started messing around as soon as they got into the carriage, but this time, Percy didn't join them, too lost in his own thoughts and memories. His first view of the castle, however, broke him out of that trance in an instant.

His eyes widened as large as saucers, and his mouth hung open as soon as the massive _castle_ came into view. It was huge! And he could see that the grounds around it were even bigger! The grey stones that it was made of also looked quite old, but despite this, they seemed still in perfect condition. He was in awe. Navigating _that_ would be like trying to find his way through the Labyrinth all over again.

His three new friends next to him were snickering at his expression, and he gave them a light shove in retaliation.

"Annabeth would have loved this place", he said, more to himself than anybody else. But the others still heard him.

Fred and George got mocking kissy faces on, and Lee playfully bumped shoulders with him.

"Eh? And who's this Annabeth girl?", he said with a playful smirk that showed he expected Percy to deny everything they were saying.

"Percy's got a crush!".

"Percy's got a crush!", the twins chanted.

He laughed. "I'd say it's a bit more than just a crush by this point, man. Annabeth's my fiancee".

That shut them up.

"Fiancee? How can you have a fiancee? You're like our age!", Lee cried, looking dumbstruck.

Percy shrugged, but a stupid grin still took over his face like it always did when he talked about Annabeth. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and it was then that the twins noticed the lines there. This was a kid that smiled and laughed all the time, but before the train, they hadn't once seen him actually, genuinely smile. The realisation of how bad they had all treated him since he'd arrived was like a punch in the gut. George immediately felt guilty.

"She'd been my best friend for over 5 years, and I've known I loved her for almost 3. We've been through a lot together", he said, his grin turning slightly sad. He tilted his head to show the scarring on the side of his face and neck, and Lee winced like he always did when he was reminded of it. He hadn't asked what caused it, but he knew it had to be some sort of horrible accident for him to have been burned so badly.

"Well shit, mate. You're already beating me. I don't even have a girlfriend yet", Fred said. Just like that the serious mood was broken as the four of them laughed at Fred's tales of his failed attempts to woo the girls in their year.

 **A/N:**

 **Hello, my fabulous readers! I'm back!**

 **Happy Christmas! (or completely secular winter break, whatever floats your boat) I report to you now from Krakow, Poland and _man_ is it cold here. I'm currently huddled inside of one of the only coffee shops that is still open (seriously, it's like the entire country shut down over night or something, _nothing_ is open) to type this for you, so be grateful! **

**Nah I'm just kidding, I owed you this a long time ago, I've just not gotten around to actually doing it. So... whoops?**

 **Anyway, this is actually only Part 1 of this chapter. It's actually a lot longer, it was just getting way too long to be all in one chapter so I had to do another one of my awkward cut-offs. Aren't those just so fun?!**

 **Percy's sorting awaits in the next half of the chapter, so get ready. I think most of you can guess what house he'll be sorted in, I've been setting it up that way for pretty much the entire story, but I still hope I can make it interesting for you. I've had the mental conversation between Percy and the Sorting Hat and basically their entire interaction planned out pretty much since I first started writing this story, so I can't wait to see how you guys like it!**

 **Goodbye my lovelies! See you again in, like, an hour or something!**


	14. Chapter 105

By the time their carriage actually arrived at the castle, Percy's initial awed impression of the structure had faded. It was still impressive, no doubt about that. But after seeing the Parthenon in Greece, and the Colosseum in Rome, not to mention Olympus itself, a castle only a few centuries old wasn't making the top of his list.

 _'Besides',_ he thought, a dopy grin making its way up onto his face, _'Annabeth's designs were a hundred times better than anything any old wizards could think up'._

As the crowd of students streamed in through the large doors and into the entrance hall, they were rejoined by the first years who were all been lead by a tall, severe looking woman in green robes. She looked over all the older students like a stern parent, and Percy realised that this woman must be McGonagall. His newly found friends continued on through another large set of double doors. He couldn't quite see what was in the room beyond, but unless his eyes were deceiving him, he could have sworn he saw some floating candles.

"See you later guys!", he called to Fred and George.

"See you at the table, Percy!", George said.

"GRYFINDOR! GRYFINDOR! GRYFINDOR!". Fred started a chant by way of a goodbye, but Lee soon swatted him over the head to get him to stop.

"Shut up, you dolt!".

George laughed at his brother's fake affronted expression, and with that, the three of them disappeared into the Great Hall.

Professor McGonagall made for an imposing figure. She was quite tall for a woman, and she looked over each student with a critical eye as they passed, but Percy could still see the slight twinkle in her eyes as they landed on certain students. She wasn't really as scary as she'd like people to think she was.

"Hello, Professor", he said, pasting on his charming smile. If there was one thing he could tell about Minerva McGonagall, it was that she had favourites.

She didn't look impressed.

He held out a hand for her to shake. "My name is Perseus Jackson, but you can call me Percy. Fred and George told me that I should come ask you where I should go since I'm a new student here". He purposefully mentioned two of her favourite students having directed him here to try and earn a few extra points with her (because no matter what they might think, Fred and George _were_ one of her favourites). It seemed to work because the lines in her face seemed to soften just ever so slightly.

"Ah yes, hello Perseus. You'll need to be sorted into a house as I'm sure the twins have explained to you. Why don't you come stand with the first years here? They'll be getting sorted before dinner as well". He winced at the use of his full name but wasn't too worried. Even from his place on the train earlier he could feel some sort of energy barrier even stronger than the barrier around Grimmauld Place around the castle. There would be no monsters getting into the borders that weren't already there. He was just glad that the wizards didn't use any sort of technology. That was the last thing he needed now.

Percy nodded his agreement and turned to make his way to the back of the line. The scarring on his face, pale in the low lighting of the entrance hall, flashed on the side of his face he had been purposefully trying to keep hidden, and Minerva had to do a double take as she saw it. She may have no children of her own, but she liked to consider her students her children (no matter how cold and strict they may think she is). Dumbledore had told her about this Perseus. And more specifically, he had told her about his family. She knew it was petty, but the knowledge of where he had come from had certainly soured her outlook on the boy. But those scars...

 _What was she doing?!_

She hardly knew anything about the boy! For all she knew, his own grandfather could have done that to him! She should be ashamed of herself! Being biased towards a student just because of their family. That was the low behaviour reserved for families such as the Malfoys. She would treat him just like any other student. And that was that.

Meanwhile, Percy was beginning to sorely miss his hoodie. He was surrounded by 11-year olds, and _none of them_ would stop _staring_ at him. Honestly, it was creepy! Like he got that transfer students must have been rare for this school, and it was obvious none of them had seen any action more violent than a game of basketball, but was it really necessary to stare at him like some bug in a jar?!

Needless to say, he was extremely grateful when, around fifteen minutes later, Professor McGonagall finally motioned for them to follow her into the Great Hall.

When he entered, to say he was awed would be an understatement. No matter what he had been through, there would still always be that small part of him that was forever a little kid. And despite the week he had spent living with a wizarding family before attending Hogwarts, magic would never get any less cool to him.

He had been right when he thought he saw floating candles earlier: hundreds of them floated high above the heads of all the students who were all sitting at four distinctly separate tables that kind of reminded him of longer versions of the tables back at camp. They were the sole source of light for the entire room, and that was saying something, because the Great Hall was very suitably _'great'_. By mortal standards, it was humongous: an extraordinary feat of architecture. It still paled in comparison to what he had seen on Olympus. But then again, if he compared everything to what he had seen on Olympus, he'd never find anything beautiful ever again.

Around him, the new first-years were all still gaping like fish, and the older students smiled fondly as they saw them, no doubt remembering their _own_ time as first years. That all went away when they caught sight of him. The whispering started immediately. It seemed every student along every one of the four tables (that he assumed each represented the four houses) had something to say.

He spotted Fred and George sitting with Lee, Harry, Ron, and Hermione at the table that was decorated with red and gold.

 _'The Gryffindor table'_ , his mind supplied.

They gave him a cheerful wave and Harry his own tentative smile before the three of them, along with Hermione, set to work on trying to quell the rumours that were already starting to fly around amongst their housemates.

"Did'ya see that scarring on the side of his face?", Seamus whispered to Dean.

"Yeah. That's from some dark magic, that", he replied.

Seamus and a few of the others who had been privy to their conversation nodded in agreement, but Hermione was soon there to interrupt.

"Stop spreading rumours about things you don't know!", she reprimanded. The boys didn't even have the decency to look properly guilty. "His _name_ is Percy. I spent quite a bit of time with him this summer, and I can assure you that he is _not_ a user of dark magic".

"Yeah?", Dean challenged, "Than what's all the scarring from? I've not seen any sort of spell that could cause burns like that".

"He didn't know that he was magic until we told him. The letter couldn't reach him when he was young because he was living in America. He told us that the burns were because he got caught in a muggle fire. There was no magic there to heal him when it happened, so now he's stuck with the scars. Now stop spreading rumours!".

The two boys 'humph'ed but said no more. Down the table some, she could see Fred, George, and Lee were having much more success convincing the others in their year.

"—Yeah. He's good at pranks, too! Just you watch, he'll be in Gryffindor for sure!", they were saying.

Everybody when quiet when the group of first-years and Percy reached the front of the hall.

Percy knew that Fred and George were joking around with him when they explained the sorting as some sort of test for survival, but he was still expecting something just a bit... _more_ than a hat on a stool. And an extremely old and dirty hat at that. He looked around in confusion, but everybody's eyes were still focused on the hat.

 _'What did they expect the stupid thing to do, start singing or someth—"._

A tear at the base of the hat near the brim magically opened wider, and two folds nearer to the top opened and closed just like eyes would. The hat had a face! It took him a moment to get over his confusion and astonishment before he realised that, not only did the hat have a face, but it was also singing.

 _"—To make the world's best magic school_

 _And pass along their learning._

 _"Together we will build and teach!"_

 _The four good friends decided_

 _And never did they dream that they_

 _Might someday be divided,_

 _For were there such friends anywhere_

 _As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

 _Unless it was the second pair_

 _Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

 _So how could it have gone so wrong?_

 _How could such friendships fail?_

 _Why, I was there and so can tell_

 _The whole sad, sorry tale._

 _Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those_

 _Whose ancestry is purest."_

 _Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose_

 _Intelligence is surest."_

 _Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those_

 _With brave deeds to their name,"_

 _Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,_

 _And treat them just the same."_

 _These differences caused little strife_

 _When first they came to light,_

 _For each of the four founders had_

 _A House in which they might_

 _Take only those they wanted, so,_

 _For instance, Slytherin_

 _Took only pure-blood wizards_

 _Of great cunning, just like him,_

 _And only those of sharpest mind_

 _Were taught by Ravenclaw_

 _While the bravest and the boldest_

 _Went to daring Gryffindor._

 _Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,_

 _And taught them all she knew,_

 _Thus the Houses and their founders_

 _Retained friendships firm and true._

 _So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

 _For several happy years,_

 _But then discord crept among us_

 _Feeding on our faults and fears._

 _The Houses that, like pillars four,_

 _Had once held up our school,_

 _Now turned upon each other and,_

 _Divided, sought to rule._

 _And for a while it seemed the school_

 _Must meet an early end,_

 _What with duelling and with fighting_

 _And the clash of friend on friend_

 _And at last there came a morning_

 _When old Slytherin departed_

 _And though the fighting then died out_

 _He left us quite downhearted._

 _And never since the founders four_

 _Were whittled down to three_

 _Have the Houses been united_

 _And they once were meant to be._

 _And now the Sorting Hat is here_

 _And you all know the score:_

 _I sort you into Houses_

 _Because that is what I'm for,_

 _But this year I'll go further,_

 _Listen closely to my song:_

 _Though condemned I am to split you_

 _Still I worry that it's wrong,_

 _Though I must fulfil my duty_

 _And must quarter every year_

 _Still I wonder whether sorting_

 _May not bring the end I fear._

 _Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

 _The warning history shows,_

 _For our Hogwarts is in danger_

 _From external, deadly foes_

 _And we must unite inside her_

 _Or we'll crumble from within._

 _I have told you, I have warned you..._

 _Let the Sorting now begin."_

After the hat finished its song, there was complete and utter silence in the hall. Percy felt a shiver run down his spine like it always did whenever he heard a prophecy or warning of the future. This was no simple warning, this was going to happen whether the school was prepared for it or not. Judging by the hateful looks being thrown across the room between the houses- particularly between Gryffindor and Slytherin- they wouldn't be anywhere close to ready to defend against these 'external, deadly foes'.

If possible, he first years now looked even more scared than before.

"What does that mean?", one kid asked shakily. The hall had already erupted into murmurs, so his words went unnoticed through the din. He looked scared out of his mind, and despite not knowing him, Percy was about to try and comfort him somehow when McGonagall thankfully decided to do that for him.

She cleared her throat, and the sound cut through all the noise of a couple of hundred students with ease. Immediately, they all quieted.

"If we'll all just settle down, please and let the Sorting Hat do its job". She didn't offer any sort of reassurance or explanation, but her voice remained calm, and she appeared completely unaffected by the hat's words. Seeing this, the students immediately began to calm down. Percy raised an eyebrow; these students were either extremely naive, or very trusting in their leaders. Judging from his interactions with those he had met so far, he was willing to bet the first one.

"Thank you", she said, pulling out a long piece of parchment from somewhere in her robes, "Now then: Stringer, Gabriella".

A small girl with mousy brown hair from the front of the group of first-years stepped forward nervously and walked towards the Professor where she stood behind the Sorting Hat on its stool.

Percy mentally cursed at the twins as he saw that this "sorting" wasn't any sort of trial or survival task as they had implied, but rather just required him to where a very old, ratty hat and wait for it to yell out his house.

"HUFFLEPUFF!", the hat cried after about 30 seconds on Gabriella's head.

The table decorated with yellow and black off to his left erupted into cheers, and little Gabriella looked significantly better as she skipped off to join her new house.

Percy was at the back of the line, and as he watched the proceedings, he came to the conclusion that that was all there was. It was honestly just a talking hat that somehow decided which of the four houses each student belonged in. From what he had gathered both from the twins and the Sorting Hat's song, the only difference between those in each of the four houses was their personality. He could see how that could cause some problems. But problems big enough to destroy the school from the inside out as the hat had suggested? That wasn't just conflicting personality issues, that was years upon years of prejudices and stereotypes that had never been let go.

Before he knew it, all of the little first-years around him had been sorted, and the attention of everybody in the hall was now entirely focused on him. At his podium just in front of the professor's table at the front of the hall, Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat.

"Congratulations to all new first-years on your new house-placements. I know that wherever you have been placed you are sure to blossom and grow into extraordinary young witches and wizards", he smiled warmly down at all of the students who were all looking at him impatiently. "This year, along with our usual sorting celebrations, we have something new", he gestured to Percy who was now standing alone in the middle of the Great Hall, "This year, we will be having an exchange student all the way from America joining us. He will be joining the fifth years, and I expect you all to treat him no differently than any other student here: that is, with kindness and respect.

He took a few steps back from the podium, and Professor McGonagall once again opened her scroll, though he suspected that at this point it was just for show. "Jackson, Perseus".

"Just Percy please", he said, again flashing his charming smile. There were a few chuckles from the students behind him, but for the most part, his new classmates continued to wait in tense anticipation. None of them quite knew why, but for some reason, they all wanted the new exchange student to be a part of _their_ house.

Percy sat on the stool, just as he had seen all the others before him do. McGonagall placed the hat on his head, but unlike with the small first-years, the hat fit perfectly, leaving his face exposed for all to see.

 _ **"Hello, Perseus"**_. He jolted in surprise and his eyes flew open.

"It talks!", he cried, looking around at nowhere in particular in alarm. More laughter rippled around the Great Hall, but the Professor just sighed.

"Yes, Mr. Jackson, it does. Now, if you wouldn't mind". She mimed shutting her eyes, and Percy got the message and copied her, once again entering the conversation with the hat. (you don't get to say _that_ every day)

 _"Um... Hello?"_ , he asked into his mind tentatively, feeling quite silly.

 **"Interesting..."** , the hat mused to itself. One of the weirdest feelings he'd ever gotten was when he allowed that hat to comb through his memories.

His entire early life, including things from when he was a baby that even _he_ didn't remember, flashed behind his eyes. It was disorientating to say the least. And the hat had made it through almost the entire first 12 years of his life before he finally pulled himself together enough to realise that he couldn't let the hat know what he was.

Mental barriers slammed down, leaving the last view from his memory slideshow of Gabe's ugly, walrus, face staring down at him.

He could feel the hat was surprised, even if it didn't say anything.

 **"Impressive...** ", it said in his mind. Percy could feel something, almost like little tendrils of energy poking and testing the strength of the mental walls he had set in its way. The hat finally heaved a mental sigh and pulled back. **"In fact, most everything about you is quite impressive. I can sense a great amount of power within you".**

The hat must have sensed his change in mood at the statement. **"Ah... But you do not accept that power, you reject it because you are scared of it. That is a wise fear, but also foolish. With your power, you could really make a difference in this world. A war is coming and we all know it. You would make a valuable asset".**

Anger rushed through him, white and hot. _"And who says I want to be an asset?! I won't be used again! There will be no more wars in my future!"._

The hat reeled back in shock at the waves of passion and anger that were flowing through him. With a fatal flaw of loyalty, it had been almost too easy to assign him to a house. The only reason he hadn't called it out was because something about the boy intrigued him. He knew there was something different about him, but he was not expecting this.

Like a rubber band, Percy's anger was quickly and suddenly reeled back in and stowed away, and a calm, neutral façade once again took its place.

 _"This world I've entered has harboured nothing but hatred for me simply because of who my grandfather is. A grandfather I've never even met! So tell me, oh mighty hat: why should I save this world?"._ A sort of resigned bitterness creeped into his voice at the end of his statement, never mind the fact that it was a mental conversation. He was just so _tired_. The hat was right, there was a war coming, even with his limited knowledge he could feel it, hovering over them all like toxic fog. After the Second Giant War, he had thought that he could finally get a break. Maybe settle down in New Rome with his Wise Girl, get married, raise a family: just overall live out the rest of his life in peace. But it seemed that wasn't to be.

 **"Curiouser and curiouser. From what I've seen from your past, I was well prepared to put you in Hufflepuff. With a fatal flaw of loyalty I'd be crazy not to. But something has changed you. Something big. Something you're not allowing me to see"** , the hat said. Again, he could feel those same tendrils of energy attacking the walls of his mental barricade, this time with more force and aggression. Percy had experience with mental meddling thanks to constant interference by the gods, but he was by no means very good at it. His walls were crumbling, no matter how hard he fought against it.

 _"You don't know me"_ , he ground out. Perspiration was beginning to gather on his brow, and his face was contorted in concentration, much to the confusion of the witches and wizards watching.

 **"Don't I? I've seen your memories. Your greatest secrets, exposed as soon as I was sat upon your head. What is there left to know?".** The slight condescending tone he detected in the voice grated on his nerves, even if it was just a hat. If there was one thing he hated, it was people who thought they were above others.

 _"Oh, I don't know. Maybe that that's not me anymore!_ _I've changed! And sometimes I wish I could go back and be that naive little boy again, but I know that that's not how life works, so I suck it up and keep_ _marching"._

 **"Ah. The good little soldier. Commander of your own army. Am I right,** _ **praetor**_ **?".** There it was again. That tone that suggested that he was _right_ where the hat wanted him. His consciousness was split into three parts: one part focused on the conversation with the hat, another attempting to keep the hat out of the memories of his later life, and the last focused on making sure his powers didn't accidentally react with his emotions and bring the entire castle down on top of them.

He grit his teeth. _"No. I never was. I may have been through the wringer, but these people I protect have been through worse. And yet, they still stuck by me. That's_ _why they have my loyalty. That's why I will protect them and my home to my last dying breath. Because my flaw is not just loyalty, it's personal_ _loyalty. Everybody under my protection has earned their way there in some way or another"._

The Sorting Hat stopped its brute attempts to force its way past his barrier and into his remaining memories, much to Percy's relief. It was shocked. Completely struck by the sorrow and resigned exhaustion that permeated the boy's every word. And that was what he was, a mere boy. Only 17 years old! And yet, the hat had never felt a mind like his: so broken and anguished.

 **"And the wizards?"** , it asked, almost afraid to hear the answer he knew would come.

Percy's mind flashed back to the final battle of that accursed war that never should have happened in the first place. Luke's body beneath him, blood pooling on the floor. Annabeth and Grover at his sides, even just their presence providing comfort and support. And Luke's pain filled eyes, looking up at him like fractured shards of ice, begging him 'Never again'.

 _A shroud for the son of Hermes_

His mind jolted back to reality, and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

 _"I won't be hurt again"._ The hat recoiled slightly from his mind, thoroughly disturbed by the short memory and the rampant emotional distress that couldn't even properly be described in words that accompanied it.

 **"So you'd leave them? You'd leave them to flounder and fail?"**. Even as it asked the question, it knew. Just as it knew what house this broken boy truly belonged to.

 _"If that's what it takes, then I'll do anything"_. A surge of self-loathing coursed through him at his own words, but then again, that was nothing new. And even then, he still would not change his answer.

The hat sighed out loud and opened its eyes to see everybody in the hall staring at it, and the boy beneath it incredulously and with a bit of alarm. Then again, it supposed that it _had_ taken quite a while to come to a decision.

It's voice sounded weaker than usual when it called out its conclusion: its wavering voice a reflection of what it'd just witnessed within the boy's mind. Even then it was still heard as clear as day through the shocked silence. Most of the school's inhabitants didn't know Percy at all, but with his goofy personality, most of them had assumed that he'd either be in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. Nobody had expected this.

"SLYTHERIN!".

 **A/N:**

 **H-Hey, guys! How's it going? Crazy how an hour turns into four days, am I right? (*nervous laughter).**

 **So... here's the scoop. I may or may not have forgotten to click publish...? I said see you again in an hour because I was writing in some cafe in Krakow, and I had to go back to my hotel since the cafe was closing. And when I got there I finished it up and everything, and then I must have clicked save instead of publish before closing my laptop and going out to dinner with my family.**

 **And then I basically didn't touch any of my stories again until I got back to Dubai today... so yeah.**

 **I'm sorry! (*falls on knees) Please forgive me!**

 **P.S. Oh and BTW I may be publishing some of my stories that are on on here and vice versa just cause it's always nice to get more feedback, so look out for those.**

 **Okay... I'm going to go now.**

 **Goodbye, my lovelies! :3**


	15. Chapter 11

Draco Malfoy stared at the new boy sitting on the stool with curiosity and just a hint of suspicion. There was something _different_ about him. A certain _aura_ if you will. One that might as well have been a large glowing sign that said, _'Danger! Do not provoke!'_. And yet, Draco still felt his eyes being drawn to him.

Of course, there was also the matter of the length of time the Sorting Hat had taken to put him into a house. Nobody had ever taken that long. Not even Harry Potter! And he was the bloody 'Boy-Who-Lived'!

Needless to say, when the accursed object finally _did_ call out its decision, he was shocked. Shock which doubled when said boy decided to sit right across from _him_ at the table.

He held out a hand. "Perseus Jackson. But you can call me Percy".

The entire table held its breath. Draco's pale grey eyes scanned over the boy in front of him, his faint amusement given away only by the slight twitch of his lips.

"Draco Malfoy", he said, shaking the offered hand.

He watched carefully, waiting for the inevitable reaction to his family name. However, the reaction he received was not at all the one he was expecting.

"Draco, huh? That's a good name. Strong. Draco was the king of the dragons, you know". Draco grinned, and the entire table seemed to exhale in relief.

"So… Perseus. That's an interesting name", Draco said, deciding to start with a less intrusive topic.

Percy smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. I'm Greek on my father's side, and my mother really loved all the old legends".

Draco furrowed his brow in confusion. "Old legends?", he asked. He, of course, knew what a legend was. The magical community had plenty of their own. But he had never heard of these 'Greek legends' before.

"Oh right… I suppose they're more of a muggle thing", Percy replied, narrowing his eyes at the wizard in front of him. How was it possible that they'd never heard of the Greek legends before? Hecate, the _Greek goddess of magic_ was the one to gift them with their powers in the first place. Was it possible that they somehow didn't know that?

Before Draco could respond to the odd comment, food from the usual beginning of the year feast filled the table. The students all around him cheered and began to dig in, but all Percy could do was gape.

"What's the matter? Have you never seen food before?", he asked mockingly. Though even as he spoke Percy could see the twinkle of laughter in his eyes which gave him away.

Percy rolled his eyes and grinned, getting over his shock to give himself his own respectable serving of food. "Of course I've seen _food_ before, Dragon. There's just so much of it. Who could possibly eat this much?!".

He was too shocked to laugh.

' _Dragon?'_. Nobody had ever given him a nickname before. His eyes eyes narrowed dangerously, all traces of laughter extinguished in an instant. _'What was he playing at?'._

To his immense surprise, Percy did not seem to react at all to having the youngest Malfoy's glare focused directly on him. He calmly ate his food, looking around the Great Hall in interest and responding to the occasional question posed by one of his other new housemates.

Draco huffed, annoyed at being ignored for such a long period of time, and decided to take a more direct approach.

"What do you want?".

Percy turned to him, head cocked innocently to the side with an easy smile on his face. "What do you mean?".

"You're being nice to me, ergo, you must want something", he explained, even more aggravated now at having to explain something that seemed so plainly obvious to him in his mind.

He hummed in feigned ignorance and pretended to think about his answer for a few moments before replying. "Well I _was_ hoping that we could be friends, dragon. Unless you don't have those here".

"An alliance, you mean". It wasn't a question.

Percy's smile turned sharp. "You could say that".

For the third time within the span of an hour, Draco found himself evaluating his view on this new boy. Perhaps he was better suited for Slytherin than he had first assumed.

—

Percy glared at the woman at the front of the hall who had just finished her rather elaborate and carefully worded speech.

Now he didn't know much about modern politics, mortal or otherwise, but there were enough parallels between this and Rome to give him an idea as to what had just happened here. If the Ministry was interfering, it was bad news for everybody.

As soon as the remarkably toad-like woman stepped down from the podium and returned to her seat, murmurs and whispers broke out all across the Great Hall at every table but the Slytherin one. All Percy's housemates had to do was look at one another for their suspicions to be confirmed.

"The Ministry's had their suspicions about Dumbledore for a while now", Draco whispered to him from across the table. "Dolores Umbridge", he said, nodding his head towards the front of the room, "is one of his most vocal supporters. She'll use this new position to execute her own agenda".

Percy fixed his piercing eyes on his garishly dressed new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "And that would be..?".

"Half-breeds. She hates any magical species that isn't a wizard- werewolves, centaurs, you name it. She was the one responsible for that law against werewolves that got rid of our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher a couple of years ago".

"Remus? Remus Lupin?".

"That's the one".

This new information only made him hate her more. In the time he had spent in Grimmauld Place, he had grown rather fond of most of the people there, excluding those who seemed to hate him for no apparent reason of course.

Bearing the curse of lycanthropy was already hard, but a law which made it so they couldn't get jobs? Was the Ministry actively _trying_ to make powerful enemies?

As Dumbledore finished his announcements, all the students around him began to stand up and leave the Great Hall, presumably towards each house's respective dormitories.

"So where's the Slytherin common room?", he asked Draco as they walked. He'd heard all about the Gryffindor common room from the Weasley twins this summer, but they never mentioned anything about any of the other common rooms.

"We're in the dungeons. Here, just follow me, I'll show you". Percy nodded his head and flashed his new friend a thankful smile.

As the crowd of students streamed out of the doors, Percy decided to use his taller than average height to his advantage to look for Fred and George. He spotted the tell-tale bright red hair of the twins right as the two groups of students were parting ways.

"Fred! George!", he yelled over the din of conversation. He raised a hand up in a wave and smiled at them before turning and following the rest of his house in the opposite directions, but they just stared at him with confused expressions which he didn't understand.

 _Did they really think he wouldn't want to be friends with them anymore just because they were in different houses? That was ridiculous!_

"What were you waving at those blood-traitors for?", Draco asked, venom that hadn't been there before leaking into his voice.

Percy looked at him in surprise.

"What? Blood traitors? What does that mean? The Weasley's are nice, they let me stay with them this summer for a few days before school started".

Draco just scoffed and turned away, but Percy knew. For the briefest of moments after he had spoken, uncertainty flashed through his new friend's eyes.

That's when Percy realised something that would change his outlook on this school and the magical community as a whole forever: Draco didn't even know them. These people he claimed to hate so passionately. Had he ever even had a real conversation with them? Perhaps considered that maybe just because they didn't share the same views as him, they weren't _horrible_ people, just different?

This kind of thinking is what led to wars and conflict, and it was this kind of thinking that pushed his grandfather astray.

If there was one thing Percy could do to help in this war besides fight in the eventual battles, it was to fix this. Unfortunately, that was a process. One that would most likely take a very long time.

"Alright, never mind about them", he said, running to catch up with his new friend, "I heard someone say that there was a password or something. Do you know what it is?".

Draco rolled his eyes in an exasperated kind of way and cracked a small smile at the question. "The password is 'cunning crumpets', but don't ask me why or who on Earth came up with the horrible thing because I don't know".

Percy snorted. "Cunning crumpets? Is that what we are? Cunning Crumpets. I don't even know what a crumpet is!".

"Americans", Draco scoffed, "So undignified. How do you _not_ know what a crumpet is?".

"I don't know. We just don't! I guess we don't have time to sit down for tea every day".

"Oh would you two stop yammering? The door can't even hear the password over you!", Pansy scolded from the front of the group of students.

"Sorry Pansy", they chorused, making a show of looking down at their feet after the scolding for the benefit of the first years.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Come in, you lot. Girls on the left, boys on the right. And I don't want to hear about any peepers".

"Oh! My trunk! Where is it?", Percy asked, suddenly remembering that the twins had told him to leave his trunk on the train.

( _In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea in the world to follow their instructions)._

"Don't worry. It's up in the dorms already. I'll show you up there later. But for now… What do you think?", Draco asked, spreading his arms out wide as if to display the common room.

Percy had to admit that it was nice. All of the chairs and couches were made of comfortable black leather, and the rest of the furniture was made of a dark mahogany wood. A nice fire crackling in the center of the room and a few greenish lamps scattered around provided all the light that was necessary. Above them, Percy could feel the lake.

"Are we underneath the lake?", he asked, still looking around the room.

The fifth-year Slytherins who had all gathered around to introduce themselves shared a glance. "Yeah. How did you know that, though".

"I can feel it", he replied distractedly. "I've always had a special connection to water, so I know it's up there, and the only body of water anywhere near here is the lake".

"Wow, mate. I don't think they get any more Slytherin than you. Our house element is water", another fifth year said. It was at that moment that Percy noticed that a few of Draco's friends had made their way over. "My name's Blaise by the way. Blaise Zabini". He held out a hand and Percy shook it.

Blaise was tall and dark-skinned with high cheekbones, his voice held an Italian accent that Percy was only able to place because of Nico, and judging by the arrogant look in his dark brown eyes, he thought very highly of himself.

"My name is Percy Jackson", he said, shaking the offered hand

The corner of Blaise's mouth turned up in a smirk, and that was the only warning Percy got before his glove was suddenly yanked from his hand.

"I knew I saw something at dinner! Didn't I tell you?!", he crowed, turning to the girl next to him.

Percy didn't really mind so much the fact that they knew about his prosthetic, he probably would have shown them himself eventually. No, the thing that made him angry was the _way_ in which they had just that.

His green eyes sharpened, and when Blaise made eye contact, he knew immediately he had made a mistake. In two strides he had made his way over to where the offending boy was standing, his glove still clutched in his hand.

"Look, kid", he said, picking him up with his metal arm and pinning him against the wall, "If you were curious, you could've just asked. Now I'm going to need that back".

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Break it up!". A girl Percy hadn't been introduced to yet wedged herself in between the two and pushed them apart, forcing Percy to drop Blaise and take a few steps back. "Come on, guys. You know we can't be fighting. We have to stick together in here", she said, crossing her arms and glaring at them with honey coloured eyes. She would have looked quite scary had she been standing at any more than 5'3.

Still, Percy did what she asked and stepped back.

"Blaise. Give him his glove back. He was right. If you were curious you could have just asked him", she said in a reprimanding tone.

Said boy pursed his lips angrily but did as she said anyway.

"Thank you", Percy said, grabbing the offered glove and flashing him a completely sarcastic smile. He just growled and stormed away.

"My name is Tracey Davis. Sorry about him. He's just our resident stick in the mud", she said, flashing him a welcoming smile. "I don't think anybody's told you this yet, but welcome to Slytherin!". Her straight brown hair that had been neatly pinned back before was now slightly ruffled, but she didn't seem to care. She seemed nice. Much nicer up front than anybody else he had met in his new house.

"Nice to meet you, and thank you… You know, for helping me back there", he said as she led him over towards the couches around the fire where the rest of the group had sat themselves. "Can I ask what you meant back there, though? You know, about sticking together?".

Tracey sighed, situating herself on the couch, and Pansy decided to pick up on and answer the question. "All the other houses hate us, so we Slytherins made a pact a long time ago that we wouldn't fight amongst ourselves. Granted, their hatred isn't completely unwarranted. As you can see, we don't have the best social skills. But it still does get lonely sometimes when all the other students assume you're evil just because you're in Slytherin".

"Huh". Percy didn't really know what else to say. Looking back on it, he had noticed it too. Fred and George had seemed so surprised when he waved at them, like they assumed as soon as he became a Slytherin he became a completely different person.

As he was thinking, he could feel all their gazes slowly but surely travelling to his metal arm, and he sighed.

 _Time for another explanation._

"So I guess the cat's out of the bag, huh?", he asked, waving the metal appendage around.

"Yeah. It's just… what is it?", a girl who's name he found out was Daphne at dinner asked.

"I… I was in an accident. A fire. It, uh, it gave me these scars", he said, gesturing to his face, "and cost me my arm".

"That's horrible!", Tracey said, but Percy just shrugged.

"I don't know. It's not so bad. I'm alive. That's more than I thought I'd be when it happened". He tilted his head down, trying in vain to make his hair cover up the scars on his face as he slipped the glove back on his bronze hand. "It was nice meeting you guys and all, but, uh, I'm pretty tired".

"Oh, yeah. Follow me, Percy. I'll show you where our dorms are", Draco said, shaking himself out of his thoughts and standing up.

"Thanks. Goodnight, guys. And sorry again", he said, raising a hand to the group of fifth years as he and Draco walked out of the room.

He wasn't really all that anxious to go to sleep. But he knew the other Slytherins needed time to talk about him when he wasn't there. Hopefully by tomorrow, they'll have decided whether to take him in or kick him out.

Percy didn't really care either way. He was used to being alone.

 **A/N:**

 **Hey guys! What's up? I'm back! And this time you get your own separate Author's Note. Yeah!**

 **Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out, guys. When I first started planning this story, I actually only got up to Percy being sorted before I started actually writing, so it was a bit hard to come up with what might have happened directly after. Sorry if it seemed a bit boring, but we do have to get these kinds of things out of the way before we can move on to the more interesting stuff. The next update should be out pretty soon, I've had a couple of requests on Wattpad to update this story more often, so I will try my best to comply.**

 **As always, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please don't be shy on feedback, it brings me joy to hear from you guys.**

 **Goodbye, my lovelies! :3**


	16. Chapter 12

**A/N:**

 **What's this? I've actually updated?**

 ***distant screaming***

 ***siren sounds***

 _ **The end is nigh!**_

 **AAaaaaaaahhhhhhh! I'm so sorry! Will you ever forgive me?! I can't even remember the last time I updated this story, but I'm sure that it's been much too long!**

 **As for my excuse, I have only one word to say to you: exams. I'm slowly drowning in revision materials and stress, and those of you from Britain should understand what I mean. I'm currently in the middle of my GCSE's right now (major exams at the end of tenth grade that basically decide what you're going to do with your life), and I waited way too long to start studying so now I'm panicking.**

 **Speaking of which, Physics is calling me so I've got to go. I just wanted to get this out there before I disappear for another month.**

 **Love you guys! Thank you so much for sticking with me!**

 **Goodbye, my lovelies! :3**

When Draco woke up the next morning, he found the bed across from his empty. It was neatly made, and the trunk beside it was left slightly open with the edges of a few clothes peaking out, likely from when Percy had rustled through it looking for his clothes that morning. The thing that confused him was the time. Draco was notoriously the early-riser in his house; he was always the first one up. But obviously, Percy had woken up before him. _A lot_ before him if the chill of his bed was anything to go by.

Still slightly groggy from sleep, Draco walked down the corridor in his pyjamas, expecting to see Percy waiting for the others to wake up in the common room. But when he got there, there was no one there.

"Hello?", he called out, just in case, "Percy?". There was no response.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy. Do you know what time it is?", Tracey complained, rubbing her eyes as she walked out of the girls' dormitory from the opposite corridor, "What are you doing?".

"Sorry, it's just Percy. He's been up for a while, but he's not here. I don't know where he went".

She frowned. "It's easy to get lost in this school. Alright, I'll come with you".

"Come with me where?", he asked, not liking where this was going.

"To look for him of course. You weren't planning on just letting him wander around, were you?. Her glare warned him not to say what he was really thinking.

"Fine". She nodded, satisfied, and turned around to walk back up towards her dorm. "Where are you going? I thought you said you'd come with me?".

She rolled her eyes over her shoulder. "I will. Just as soon as I get dressed. Or were you planning to wander the school looking like that?", she said, gesturing with amusement to his pajamas.

"Oh shut up", he said, a slight pink tinge lighting up his cheeks.

—

"I just don't get it!", Tracey cried out in frustration after the pair had hit their third dead end. "Where could he be?! It's almost breakfast!".

"Maybe he fell off one of the moving staircases", Draco suggested flippantly, carelessly looking over the edge of the one they were currently descending.

"Oh knock it off, Draco! You know that stupid charade doesn't work on me. Now are you going to help me find your friend or not?", she demanded, turning to face him with her arms crossed angrily over her chest.

He huffed indignantly and rolled his eyes, but answered her question anyway. "If I remember correctly, he did mention a 'special connection' to water last night. We should check by the lake, and if he's not there, we'll just have to assume he's already gone off to breakfast".

"Thank you. Now was that so difficult?".

"Yes", he muttered, but she had already taken off towards the lake.

By the time the two got there, the sun had already risen and was casting an orange glow over the surface of the lake as it rose through the clouds on its daily journey. On the bank nearest them, sat a figure that they were just able to make out as Percy. He sat cross legged facing the water, and as they drew closer, they could clearly make out what appeared to be a small ball of water floating just over the surface of the lake in front of him.

"What's he doing?", Draco asked, eyeing the floating ball of water curiously.

"Well I don't know. Maybe he's sleeping? We have to fetch him for breakfast either way", she replied, marching forward so that she could tap him on the shoulder.

As soon as she touched him, a green glow they hadn't noticed before disappeared from the ball of water, and it fell down back into the lake. "What?", Percy asked, an annoyed scowl appearing on his face as he turned around. Though once he saw it was them it disappeared. "Oh, it's you guys. What's up?".

"What's up? _What's up?_ ", Tracey repeated incredulously. Draco winced, he'd only seen her like this a few times, but those few times did _not_ end well for whoever she was yelling at. "We've been looking for you all over this castle, you stupid boy! Have you been out here this whole time?! You can't just disappear from the common room like that and expect no one to notice!".

Percy's eyes grew suddenly sad at her words, and, to both Tracey and Draco's infinite surprise, a nostalgic smile appeared on his face. "You remind me of someone I used to know", he said sadly, eyes automatically seeking out the comfort of Zoe's constellation in the sky. The sun had risen too far into the sky, however, and the stars were no longer visible.

Tracey's eye twitched.

 _Had he heard_ _anything_ _she just said?!_

Still, she forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down so she didn't scare away her new housemate on his first day. "Really? What happened to them?", she asked, making an effort to keep her voice pleasant and interested.

He gave her a look like he knew what she was doing but answered anyway. "She died". His eyes grew distant for a moment before he forcefully shook himself out of it and made to stand up. "I'm sorry that I made you guys walk all over the school looking for me", he said, standing to his feet and grabbing his discarded cloak from the grass next to him, "I just wanted some time alone to practice my magic, and being by the water always helps me think".

' _Oh, he was good. He was_ _really_ _good',_ Tracey thought to herself, narrowing her eyes at him, _'How could she go on being mad at him when he'd just told her something like that?'._

Thankfully, Draco decided to step up before she made the choice between beating him senseless and giving him a hug.

"Practicing your magic… by making a ball of water float?", he asked sceptically.

"Oh don't give me that look!", Percy cried over-dramatically, sensing the insincerity, "It's harder than it looks. Magic doesn't like to be told what to do. Go on, you try!". Draco heaved a dramatic sigh and raised his wand, but before he could utter a spell, Percy cut him off again. "Uh, uh, uh. No wand".

"What? What do you mean 'no wand'?", he demanded incredulously.

"I mean what I said". An air of smugness that Draco didn't like the sound of at all had invaded Percy's voice, and he narrowed his eyes. There was no way he was letting that blatant challenge go by unmet.

He put his wand away in his robes and turned his attention back on the still surface of the lake in front of him, pouring all of his concentration and willpower into making it move. His concentrated stare soon turned into a glare as nothing continued to happen, and his mind began to race for an explanation as to why Percy could do it when he couldn't.

"Well that's not fair! You have your special connection to water or whatever it is. It gives you an unfair advantage!", he complained, glaring murderously at Tracey who hid her laughter behind a hand.

Percy cocked an eyebrow, raising his left hand slightly in the air. As his hand rose, so did a rather large rock, coated in the same sea-green light as the ball of water from before. "I can do it with other things too, it's just a bit harder".

Draco frowned angrily at the rock that Percy had set back on the ground. For a split second, it seemed to glow with a royal blue light, but it flickered and disappeared almost as soon as it had appeared and would not come back, no matter how hard he tried.

"Don't strain yourself, kid", Percy said, clapping his real hand on his shoulder and guiding him back up the hill towards the castle.

Draco shook him off. "I'm not a kid! I'm only two years younger than you!", he protested, still frustrated at his failure down by the lake.

"Sure shortstacks", Percy teased, grinning mischievously.

"I am _not_ short!".

"Just keep telling yourself that, pipsqueak".

"Why you—". Tracey laughed as she ran after the two boys, tearing up the hill and shoving one another like proper friends. She knew Percy was waiting on their verdict just as she knew that he was right to assume that there would be one. After all, a person as strange as Percy Jackson doesn't come along everyday. They couldn't risk befriending him if he was going to be a danger to their house.

She had never seen Draco smile and laugh as freely as he was now. It was a whole house decision, but as far as she was concerned, Percy would always be able to find a friend in her.

—

Percy had Draco under his arm, ruffling his perfect hair when the three of them entered the Great Hall. All attention was immediately on them. His grip on Draco loosened, and the younger boy escaped, straightening his hair and clothes again before making his way to his normal seat with a stony face. Percy looked around the hall curiously, but his face, too, was wiped of all expression. He'd only been here a day, but he understood now how this school worked. He was a Slytherin now, he could show no weakness.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched as he made his way over to his seat across from Malfoy and sat down to eat his breakfast with his new housemates.

"Well he looks right at home", Harry muttered bitterly, taking out his anger on a piece of sausage on the plate in front of him.

"What did I tell you? He's a death eater, just like his grandfather!", Ron said between bites of food.

"Don't be stupid! He was nice to us, and he wouldn't have changed overnight just because he joined a new house", Hermione scolded, though even she look unsure.

"Oh come off it, Hermione! Have you ever met anyone from Slytherin even remotely decent?", Ron asked, gesturing to their table who had all broken out into laughter for some joke or another.

"Tracey Davis", she replied hotly, still unwilling to give up on her argument, "She's a half-blooded witch. I see her in the library sometimes. She's a bit sharp around the edges but nice once you get to know her". Ron rolled his eyes but said no more, instead choosing to take a large gulp of his pumpkin juice.

The sound of a bench scraping against the floor drew the three's attention, and both the whole of Gryffindor and Slytherin tables watched in shock as Percy stood, made his way over to them and plopped down on the bench across from them.

"Hey guys, how's it going?", he asked, stealing a piece of toast from a platter off the middle of their table. The entire hall went silent. "Oh, is this not allowed? Are we not allowed to mix tables or something?", he asked, looking uncomfortable with all the staring.

A piece of egg fell out of Ron's open mouth. "Well, no. It's just not… done", Hermione replied quietly, her statement coming out more as a question than she meant it to.

"So… what? You have all of these students and you only ever talk to the ones in your house? That seems dumb". He made no effort to keep his voice down, and now all the teachers and even Dumbledore himself were staring at him, though he no longer seemed to care.

"Yes… yes, I suppose it is", she replied softly, her eyes unfocusing in the way her two friends had come to realise meant she was deep in thought.

Several of the other Gryffindors glared over at him, including Harry's so called friend Seamus. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall chose that moment to interrupt before an argument could break out. "Mr. Jackson, if you would please", she said, gesturing back over towards the Slytherin table, "I believe it is time to hand out time tables". Sure enough, Professor Snape was standing at the head of his house's table, already beginning to hand out pieces of parchment and looking very displeased at the location of his missing student.

"Right. Sorry, Professor!", he said, giving her a grin that pulled at the scar tissue on his cheek but still managed to be charming all the same.

Percy kept his eyes forward as he made his way back over to the rest of his house, pointedly ignoring all of the stares. There was a time when he would have been uncomfortable with the attention, but that time was long gone. Being the hero of two great prophecies with a bronze hand and scars on his face tended to have that effect.

"They won't like that", Tracey cautioned him, handing him his schedule as the two walked out of the Great Hall together amongst a crowd of other students.

"Who won't like what?", he asked innocently.

"You know very well what!", she snapped, eyes narrowing. "Slytherins are isolated here. I thought we explained that to you last night. We stick with our own, and _only_ our own".

"But what if we didn't have to be?", Percy asked, stopping suddenly and pulling her over to the side of the hallway so they were out of the way.

She frowned in confusion, "What?".

"What if we didn't have to be isolated", he clarified. She shook her head and opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off before she could. "No, listen. I haven't been in this world long, so I'm not sure how accurate this is, but it seems to me that the only reason you hate each other is because you were _told_ to hate each other. Have you ever _had_ a decent conversation with a Gryffindor? And I mean a real conversation, not a battle of insults". Her eyes lit up with an angry, indignant fire, and she opened her mouth to reply before finding she had none and closing it again. "Exactly. Now I'm not saying that you should all be the best of friends right away, but you could at least try".

Tracey looked down at her feet as his points hit home. "How?", she asked, a tint of hopelessness to her voice, "Are we just supposed to forget everything that they've done to us? They turned everybody against us: the entire school! Even the teachers!".

"Forgive, but never forget. That's my life motto, and it's gotten me through a lot". He made direct eye contact with her then, the intensity of his gaze pinning her to the spot. "Tracey, you know what's coming. We can't afford to be squabbling amongst ourselves. There are bigger battles to be fought".

She looked up at him, a vulnerability in her gaze that he had never seen before. But before she could reply, the two found themselves surrounded by a pack of other fifth and even and few sixth year Slytherins.

"Jackson", Blaise greeted evenly, his face a stony mask.

Percy looked around at his housemates warily, this scene being all too familiar to him. They were trying to scare him, intimidate him into submitting. If they thought that that was going to work, they obviously didn't know him that well.

He turned to face them fully, straightening his posture and taking full advantage of the couple of extra inches he had over the younger boy. "Blaise", he replied, voice just as even and toneless, "What can I do for you?". His brief friendly smile fell until all that was left was a small, vaguely predatory smirk.

His new housemate's confident demeanour seemed to falter, and those standing behind him shuffled nervously. "We've come to talk to you about what happened at breakfast this morning".

"Yeah. I can see that", Percy said, his New York accent thickening, a sure sign he was becoming irritated.

"We've been talking, and we feel that your behaviour this morning was unacceptable". A muscle in Percy's jaw ticked. _Who were_ _they_ _to tell him what he could and could not do?_ "We're Slytherins. We don't associate with blood traitors and mud bloods like Weasley and Granger. And we certainly do _not_ leave our table to go and sit with the _Gryffindors_ ".

The surrounding Slytherins all nodded and murmured in agreement, several of them gathering their courage to meet his eyes. Despite all of this, Percy was only really concerned with one face in that crowd, one head of platinum blond hair. Draco was among them, but unlike the rest of them, his grey eyes seemed uncertain, and he looked between Percy and Blaise as though he were watching a tennis match: uncertain of the outcome or even who he was rooting for.

"Look, Jackson, you're either a part of this house or you're not. But you had better make a decision quickly before _we_ make it for you". He made to walk away, satisfied that he had gotten the last word, but there was no way that Percy was going to let him do that.

Percy rolled his eyes, letting out a long sigh that drew back everyone's attention from where it had begun to wander. "Look, kid, I couldn't give a rat's ass what Slytherins _do_ or do _not_ do, because luckily for us, _we are not a bunch of sheep_. I do not have to blindly do whatever you tell me to do simply because everybody else does. I don't _care_ how long it's been this way. It doesn't matter! What matters is this: I know some of those Gryffindors, they took me into their home and taught me the ways of this world. And yes, they can be dicks sometimes, but they're good people, but none of you know that because you've never even had a decent conversation with any of them!", he paused in his rant to catch his breath, and most of the gathered Slytherins looked down at the floor in shame. His tongue was sharp and his words harsh, but they were true and they all knew it. Percy turned to Blaise who only stared defiantly back at him in anger. "Everybody I've met so far in this house has told me that Slytherins have to stick together, that we're all that we've got. But _you're_ in my house, and I'm not finding myself that inclined to _like_ you very much. So maybe your theory about staying within our own house for friends is just a tad flawed, hm?". Blaise was practically steaming in anger at this point, but as he looked around, he found none of his other housemates willing to meet his eye. "Now then, if I recall correctly, we have class. Excuse me".

Tracey stayed in her place for a moment in shock before quickly hurrying after him.

"That was awesome", she breathed, walking in step with him as he strode purposefully down the corridor.

"Thank you. Now, if you wouldn't mind giving me some directions, I'm afraid I have no idea where I'm going, and I don't want to ruin that sweet dramatic exit".

She laughed loudly, the sound echoing all the way back down the corridor and shaking the rest of their housemates from their stupor. "Make a right here".


	17. Author's Note

**Hey guys! Bet you thought this was another chapter huh? Yeah... sorry about that, it's not.**

 ** _But_ I do have a very serious question for you all that might make some of you happy. **

**So, when I originally planned this story, I was just going to leave everything with the Harry Potter characters as canon (except for Percy being Voldemort's grandson... obviously). But, I've fallen down the pit of Tumblr and have fallen in love with the ship that is Drarry. So, my question for you all is this: should I make this a Drarry story?**

 **I wasn't really going to add any romance into this story anyway besides some occassional fluffy Percabeth, but Drarry could still work, and I think it fits with the way that I've written Draco's character so far.**

 **I could go both ways to be honest, so I'm leaving it up to all of you. What do you think: Drarry or Hinny?**

 **Please leave your votes in the comments and remember: the quicker you vote, the quicker I can start working on the next chapter to get out to you guys.**

 **Goodbye, my lovelies! Until next time! :3**


	18. Chapter 13

**A/N:**

 **Guess who's _back,_ baby?!**

 **I know, I know, it's been a while and I kind of left you all hanging there, but I've been having some personal issues as of late, and well... let's just say my attention has been elsewhere.**

 **But no more, my friends! I promise, I have _not_ given up on you!**

 **Now, onto the stuff you care about: the poll. Unfortunately for those of you who wanted Drarry, you have been outvoted. But never fear, even if you _had_ won, it wouldn't have made all that much of a difference in the plot anyway. It would have just been a sort of side thing, they wouldn't have gotten their own chapters dedicated to them or anything. And the same goes for Hinny. Anything I _do_ do involving them will be very minor. As you can see, the main ship of this story is, of course, Percabeth. Percabeth is life. They are definitely one of my favourite couples, so I'm warning you now, there will probably be lots of fluff.**

 **Ummm... what else? What else? I've already started writing the next chapter, so I should be able to get that out to you soon. Umm... for those of you who read my other stories, never fear, because updates will be coming to them soon, too!**

 **Alright, I think that's it. Can I just say, I _really_ appreciate how supportive you guys have been during my unplanned hiatus. No matter how low I get, it really does make me feel great to see all of your comments and feedback, so keep it coming!**

 **Love you all! Goodbye, my lovelies! :3**

After his little altercation with his housemates in the corridor, Percy was worried that he'd be late to his first class. Thankfully, when he and Tracey walked into their History of Magic Classroom, it seemed that the professor hadn't even arrived yet. Not-so-thankfully, that also meant that he and Tracey were left alone in an unsupervised classroom with a bunch of Gryffindors.

Across the room, Percy could see the 'Golden Trio' sitting together and whispering amongst themselves. Briefly, he debated walking over and talking to them again before deciding against it after catching sight of all the stares thrown his way.

"So... History of Magic", he said to Tracey after the two of them had sat down, "I don't remember seeing a History teacher sitting at the head table during breakfast".

"That's because there wasn't", she replied, doing her best to ignore all of the stares and whispers, "Professor Binns is a ghost. Ghosts don't need breakfast".

Percy's eyes, which had before been restlessly roaming around the room, immediately snapped to hers incredulously. "He's a ghost? Like the Bloody Baron? A proper ghost?". She nodded her head. "How many ghosts do you all _have_ in this place?".

His mind immediately travelled to his cousin Nico, the newly named Ghost King. Nico was hard to read on a _good_ day, but Percy was sure that he wouldn't be happy to see how many souls had escaped the Underworld in this castle alone.

He was about to ask more, but just then, they were joined by new arrivals from either end of the classroom.

Through the door filed the rest of their Slytherin classmates that they had left behind in the corridor outside the Great Hall. They were silent and their faces stony, but judging by how long it had taken them to get here, they had obviously discussed what he said. Through the blackboard floated the ghost of a stout old man he assumed was Professor Binns.

"Settle down, settle down", the ghost droned monotonously. The remaining slytherins took their seats at the back of the classroom, and the lesson began.

It only took five minutes for Percy to decide that this was by far the most boring lesson he had ever had to listen to.

His classmates, regardless of house, all seemed to agree, as most of them were staring into space or even completely asleep. The only person who seemed even remotely engaged in what the professor was droning on and on about was Hermione.

Next to her, the red-haired Ron was asleep and drooling on his desk, while Harry was not-so-subtly staring at a pretty Ravenclaw girl across the room.

Percy tried to focus, he really did, but History had never been his thing, it was always Annabeth who provided him with the necessary historical details.

Of course, seeing as how Annabeth wasn't a witch, she wasn't here, so he had to know his own historical information. _This_ brilliant conclusion circled back to his need to focus.

"The Goblin Wars of the..."

Using a quill and a new pot of ink, he took jot notes on a spare piece of parchment- all in Ancient Greek, of course. He didn't write much, just a few dates and some short descriptions of important events, but it was enough to stimulate his brain out of vegetable mode.

It helped that they were talking about goblins. The goblins he met at Gringotts had known about his family. That made them a threat. The more he knew about them, the better.

"Is that code?". A hushed whisper from his left broke his train of thought, and his quill stopped halfway through a word.

"What?". He turned to look at Tracey who was eyeing him with curiosity shining through her hazel eyes.

"Your notes", she clarified, "What do those symbols mean?".

"Oh, um, my first language is Greek, and it's easier for me to read and write. It's just a different alphabet".

 _I mean, it wasn't exactly_ _a lie._

"That's so cool. The letters are really pretty", she said, running her finger over the dried ink.

He looked down at his notes in surprise. "Yeah, I guess. I've never really noticed before".

The sound of chairs scraping and relieved chatter broke them out of their conversation. It seemed class had ended.

Percy cursed, quickly scribbling out the rest of the sentence he had been in the middle of writing before shoving the parchment in his bag. He was in the middle of putting away his ink pot and quill too when a familiar head of blond hair appeared in his peripheral.

"Draco", he acknowledged, not even turning around.

"Percy". His voice was filled with its usual haughtiness, but there was an underlying stiffness that had never been there before. The air between them suddenly became uncomfortable.

"I'm just gonna...go", Tracey said awkwardly, skirting around Harry and Ron and practically running out the door.

Draco sighed. "Look, what you said in the corridor earlier... you weren't wrong. But you weren't right either. Things have been said and done that can't be undone. Things that stretch back hundreds of years. We can't just forget all of that and move on".

"I'm not asking you to forget", Percy said, slinging his messenger bag across his body, "I'm asking you to forgive. Change has to start somewhere". The two of them began to make their way out of the classroom and towards the dungeons. "Just... trust me on this, okay? If you make the effort, things will work out, you'll see. I've had some experience with this recently".

He was, of course, referring to the joining of the Greek and Roman demigods. _That_ had been a hassle he was not overly keen on going through again.

Draco looked at him thoughtfully for a few moments before nodding tersely.

Percy grinned. "Good", he said, clapping him on the shoulder with his real hand, "Now come on, we don't want to be late".

—

Draco told him that the next lesson on his schedule was Potions, same as him, and that the classroom was by their common room in the dungeons.

"I still don't understand why you can't read your own schedule", he asked as the pair walked across the courtyard, "You didn't grow up with your dad, so what does it matter what language he spoke?".

Percy sighed, running a hand through his hair as he searched for a way to explain without revealing anything. "It's complicated. There's something... different about the way my brain is wired- the muggles call it 'dyslexia'. It basically makes it so that the words get all jumbled up when I try to read them. I don't know why, but for whatever reason, the symbols in Greek are easier for me to read than the letters in English".

Draco frowned then shook his head, as if trying to get rid of any lingering doubts. "That still doesn't make any sense, but whatever. As long as it works, I suppose. You know, I can help you look in the library for a spell that might change the language of written texts if you want. OWLS are coming up and not being able to read the books are a major disadvantage".

Percy turned to face his friend from where he had been looking at a madly blushing Harry talking to the Ravenclaw girl from earlier across the courtyard. "Thanks, dragon", he said sincerely, clapping him on the back.

"No problem. We can go during our free period tomorrow. I'll get someone to guard the aisle while we're looking. I know how to disable all the security charms, of course, but it never hurts to be too careful with Madame Ponce". He trailed off just as the pair were reentering the building, heading for a staircase Percy recognized from his wander around the castle this morning.

"Security charms?", Percy asked skeptically, "What kind of fucked up library needs security charms?".

Draco looked shocked for the briefest of moments before his face transitioned smoothly back into it's usually stony expression. "Well that was rather crass".

 _'Crass'? Who uses the word crass? What is this, fucking Downton Abbey?_

Percy raised an eyebrow. "I'm from New York, and you didn't answer the question".

Draco rolled his eyes but didn't comment any further. "I know a book that will have the spell we're looking for, but it's in the restricted section".

"Restricted section? I'm guessing that means we're not allowed to go there?", he asked as they went down yet another staircase.

"Yep".

"And we're going to go there anyway?".

"Uh huh". The two made their way down the last corridor where he could see a crowd of their classmates gathered outside of a door.

Percy shrugged. "Cool".

"Hey guys!", Tracey said, bounding up to them. She sobered quickly, however, when she realised the condition she had last left the two of them in. "Everything... _okay_ now?".

"Everything's fine, Trace. Now what can you tell me about Potions? It's basically like chemistry, right?".

"Chemistry?", Draco asked, his brows furrowing in confusion, "What's that?".

"Oh, um, it's kind of complicated. I'll explain later, Draco. And yeah, basically Percy. Potions is like chemistry with, like, magic mixed in... sort of. It's actually a bit more complex than that, but... oh just wait and see. Despite his shortcomings, Professor Snape is actually a pretty good teacher", she said.

"Huh". Percy shrugged, but before he could say anymore, the door to their classroom creaked open of its own accord. He looked around for some sort of explanation, but nobody else seemed to find anything odd or out of sorts about the action.

"The doors are charmed not to open until class starts to give the professors a bit of privacy between classes", Tracey explained, seeing his confusion. "I don't know why they bother with Professor Snape, though. He's pretty much never here".

They found their seats on the far side of the classroom, and Percy frowned as he noticed that all of the Slytherins were isolated against all the other houses.

"Percy", Draco called from behind him, drawing his attention away from the problem that just seemed to get bigger every time he looked at how to solve it, "This is Crabbe and Goyle, they'll be helping us tomorrow". Goyle nodded in greeting, but Crabbe just grunted and turned back to messing with his cauldron.

Percy turned to his friend with a raised eyebrow, but he just shrugged as the two found their seats. "They're both dumb as a rock, but they're loyal, and we need someone to watch the aisle just in case".

Percy shrugged, not really caring either way, before his eyes lit up with a hint of amusement. "Are their names really Crabbe and Goyle? Their parents must not have liked them very much".

Draco rolled his eyes. "No, those are their last names, but they won't respond to their first names, so...". Percy burst out laughing, only serving to make his friend's scowl deepen. "Stop it! Everybody's staring!", he hissed. And they were, but Percy didn't care.

"So what?!", he challenged, "Gods, you're all wound up tight enough to burst".

He was still laughing slightly when Professor Snape himself swept into the room, causing a hush to fall over everybody but him.

"And what, pray tell, is so funny Mr. Jackson?", he drawled, coming to stand right in front of them at the front of the room. The rest of the class fell completely silent, waiting to see what would happen.

Percy cocked his head. "Nothing _sir_. Just a joke". Percy had met Snape back at the Order's headquarters before school had started. He wasn't a _huge_ fan of the man's constant moodiness, but pushing his buttons had become a sort of game to him whenever they were both there. He found watching him simmer to be endlessly entertaining, especially when they both knew he couldn't retaliate.

Now was one of those times, and Percy felt a grin break out on his face as Snape was forced to turn away and begin the class.

"Before we begin today's lesson", he said, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions.

Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are", he said, gaze flittering around the classroom, "I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your OWL or suffer my... displeasure". Across the classroom, every student, regardless of house, seemed to get decidedly more nervous.

Percy raised an eyebrow as he looked around. "Shortcomings, yeah, that's one word for it", he scoffed under his breath.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me. I only take the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye". Snape shot Percy a rather annoyed glare at that before his gaze settled decidedly on Harry. Percy was faintly impressed when the boy stared right back with a defiant gleam in his eye.

 _At least the 'Chosen One' wasn't a push-over._

"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell", he continued after a few moments of silence, "so whether you are intending to attempt NEWT or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students".

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation". Percy snapped to attention at that. A potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation could be _really_ useful back at camp. He wasn't the only one to suffer from PTSD, and as skilled as the Apollo campers were at healing physical injuries, they couldn't really do much to help. But _this_ could.

In the background, Snape continued on speaking about precautions and the proper materials, but Percy zoned him out in favour of looking through his bag for a piece of parchment and his quill.

"What are you doing?", Draco hissed, eyes still facing the front so they wouldn't be called out.

"What does it look like I'm doing?", he replied snarkily.

 _Where was his ink pot?_

"Aha!", he said triumphantly.

"—the ingredients are on the blackboard. Start", Snape finished giving instructions just as Percy was able to organise his writing equipment.

People began moving around the classroom with low chatter, so Draco was able to speak to him at normal volume, "You don't need those things for Potions".

"I _know_ , Dragon", he replied impatiently, "But I want to copy the potion down to study later". It was only a little lie.

"You don't need to do that, though", he insisted, "It's all in the book".

Percy frowned, turning to face his friend for the first time since their conversation started. "What? But he said it was on the blackboard?".

Draco shrugged. "Well, yeah, I guess it's there, too. But they're the same".

"Are they?", he asked.

"Well of course they are!", Draco said in exasperation, "Professor Snape can't teach us something that's not in the book. Now come on, we have to get our materials". Percy shrugged and followed after him towards the store cupboard. "Now let's see...". Draco muttered the list of ingredients under his breath, occasionally looking over his shoulder to check the board as he stacked everything they needed in Percy's arms.

"Ewww. What _is_ this thing?", Percy asked, holding up a dirty jar filled with a suspiciously murky liquid.

"Fermented salamander tears", Draco replied distractedly, grabbing one last thing off the shelf.

Percy set the sketchy bean jar down first when they got back to their workstation, taking care to place it as far away from _him_ as he could. "Okay. Whats the first step?". Draco shifted the ingredients around to try and make space on the table, but it just wasn't big enough. "What are you doing?", Percy asked, eyeing the murky jar cautiously.

"There's no room for the book. You're taking up all the space with your parchment!", Draco replied, scowling.

"It's on the board. Just read it from there!'.

"Fine", he huffed, "Combine two counts of salamander tears with three pinches of goofer dust over a low flame. Stir counterclockwise five times".

"Goofer dust?", Percy asked skeptically, "What the—You know what, never mind, I'm not even going to ask". He still wasn't used to writing with a quill and ink, so by the time he copied down even just that first line of instructions (in Greek of course), Draco had already done it.

They continued on like that for the rest of the class; Draco read the instructions out loud for him, and he copied them down while Draco carried them out. The classroom was soon filled with various coloured fumes and smells, and as the class drew ever closer to its end, their classmates grew increasingly flustered in the heat and pressure.

"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion", Snape announced as he paced the room. Percy looked up from his notes and grinned triumphantly. The mist over their cauldron wasn't silver so much as a sort of grey, but that was close enough, right? Besides, looking around at everybody else's work, it seemed that even their less-than-perfect product was one of the best. Behind them, Goyle's potion had thickened to the colour and consistency of tar. Every once and a while, a bubble would pop at the surface, releasing fumes Percy was eighty percent sure were toxic.

Snape made his rounds around the classroom, giving only the occasional derisive snort or scoff as comment. He said nothing at all as he passed their workstation, which was the closest to a compliment they would probably ever get out of him. As he reached Harry's cauldron, however, he stopped completely. "Potter, what is this supposed to be?". Percy looked over and frowned as he saw Harry's potion. He could tell it wasn't right, but it wasn't _that_ bad. Certainly not bad enough to warrant special attention.

Harry scowled. "What'd you think it's supposed to be?", he snapped.

"Five points from Gryffindor", Snape replied automatically. "Tell me, Potter, can you read?". Draco snickered, and Percy frowned and elbowed him in the ribs to get him to show up. This was not what he meant by forgive and move on.

"Yes, I can", Harry replied, fist tightening into a ball under the table.

"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter". Percy shook his head at what almost sounded like enjoyment in Snape's voice. He knew he was an asshole, but really? Bullying kids? That's a new low.

"Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore". Harry's face dropped in realisation.

"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?", Snape asked smugly.

"No", he replied quietly.

"I beg your pardon?".

"No _sir_ ", Harry repeated through gritted teeth, "I forgot the hellebore".

"I know you did Potter", Snape gloated, "Which means that this mess is utterly worthless". He waved his wand, and Harry's potion disappeared from his cauldron.

"Those of you have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing. Homework — twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion making, to be handed in on Thursday."

The tense silence broke as students began moving around the room to do as he asked. Draco left to deliver a flagon (whatever that was) of their potion to Snape while Percy cleared up. The whole time he kept watch out of the corner of his eye to see what the 'Golden Trio's reaction would be.

 _'Uh oh'_ , he thought as he watched Harry storm from the room. It seemed teenage hormones struck again. Percy tried to think back to when _he_ was 15. He didn't remember ever being that moody, but then again, the only emotion he could really remember from that time was his massive crush on Annabeth.

The thought of Annabeth made him smile to himself sadly. He missed her: her stormy grey eyes and hair that always smelled like strawberries and lemons, the way she would crinkle up her nose when—

"Hey!".

He jumped, blinking at his friends standing in front of him in confusion, "What?".

"You were staring at the wall. We called you three times", Draco said in annoyance.

"You okay, Percy?", Tracey asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm alright", he replied, shaking the last vestiges of his daydream from his head. He packed up the last of his things before joining them by the door.

 _'That settles it',_ he thought to himself as they made their way towards the Great Hall for lunch, _'I'm seeing Annabeth. Tonight'._


	19. Chapter 14

**A/N:**

 **Alrighty then, how's it going everybody? Good, good, I'm bored too. But, you know, such is life. Thankfully, Uncle Rick has given us a light in the darkness. Who else is way more than just excited about the promised Disney+ Percy Jackson series? Now, more than ever, I need this stupid corona thing to go away so that they can get on production!**

 **My muse is back and better than ever! You'll never believe, but I pumped this chapter out in a day. I'm so excited for you guys to read this! I think you'll find it...unexpected (mwahahaha :))**

 **Just so you know, I'm a prospective pre-med student, so I tried my best to make everything in this chapter as medically accurate as possible. But if it's not...well... I _did_ say prospective, didn't I? Seriously, though, if there are any errors that you notice, _please_ tell me so that I can go back and fix them.**

 **As always, I hope you enjoy! And please vote and comment, they really _do_ light up my day.**

 **Goodbye, my lovelies! :3**

The rest of the day went by in a blur. It had been at least a week since he'd seen Annabeth. That wasn't _that_ long, technically, but to him it felt like years. Ever since the switch, it was like his feelings for Annabeth had grown ten fold. It was like that old saying, 'you never realise how much you love something until it's gone'. Annabeth was _important_ to him, she was his rock, his world. And after Tartarus….They _needed_ each other.

Besides, he knew she must be going out of her mind, by now. When he'd called from his apartment, he hadn't had time to properly explain what was going on, and every time he'd tried to Iris message after that hadn't worked. The whole thing reminded him just a little bit too much of Hera's schemes last year.

It was time. He _had_ to make his escape. But he couldn't try and leave until night, or else the wizards would notice and get suspicious. And suspicion was the last thing they needed. The camps were still recovering from the war. Discovery would be fatal.

By the time dinner rolled around, his friends had realised that something was up. But he refused to answer any of their questions.

He felt like Nico at the beginning of the Giant War. Playing for both sides without letting either one know the other existed. It was harder than he thought it would be.

"Seriously, Percy, are you alright? What's going on? You've been acting weird all day", Tracey said, interrupting herself in the middle of talking about something he wasn't paying attention to. That made him feel a bit guilty. But not too much.

"Look, I'm fine", he replied, beginning to get a bit irritated at their repeated questions, "Same as I was when you asked me fifteen minutes ago. I just haven't been getting much sleep lately, that's all".

That was part of the problem too. He had grown used to Annabeth's constant presence by his side over the years. Within the past year or so, that included at night, too. He still had nightmares when they were together, to be sure. And he knew that she did too. But they weren't nearly as bad, and waking up to her beside him always managed to calm him down quicker and easier than even the ocean. Without her here or even a body of water bigger than a lake, he was at his wit's end. 3 hours of sleep every night for the past two weeks did not a happy demigod make.

Tracey frowned, and though he tried to hide it, Draco looked up in concern as well. "Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey", she suggested gently, "She might be able to give you something that would help".

Percy shook his head immediately. "No, no. I'm fine. I don't need drugs or potions or whatever. I'll figure it out on my own". The idea of taking something to help him sleep unnerved him, even though it was a perfectly reasonable thing for someone in his situation to do. Maybe it was the fact that stuff like that made you sleep deeply in a way he hadn't for pretty much his entire life. There was a reason for that. Demigods were always in danger, and they brought danger to those around him, too. Especially him, being a demigod son of one of the Big Three. He couldn't even count how many times he'd been attacked in the middle of the night and had to transition from sleep directly to battle. Sleeping so deeply could cost him his life. And more importantly, the lives of those around him.

"Alright…", she said, unconvinced.

They continued with their dinner with an awkward silence hanging over them. Draco in particular had an odd expression on his face. He looked kind of…constipated.

"You know", he finally started quietly after a few moments, "If you ever need to talk, you can wake me up. I know what it's like". He turned immediately back to his food as though embarrassed, but Percy was oddly touched.

"Thanks, dragon. I might take you up on that sometime". He had no intention of doing that, of course, but it was the thought that counted. The fact that he had even offered was comforting in itself.

Draco glared at him across the table, though it held no heat. " _Don't_ call me dragon".

Percy shook his head petulantly, a trace of his usual grin on his face. "Nope. I like it, so you're stuck with it… _Dragon_ ".

Draco just groaned dramatically and threw a roasted potato at him in retaliation. Percy's hand flew up in caught it in an amazing show of reflexes and popped it in his mouth with a grin. "Ha!", he crowed. The younger boy just rolled his eyes.

—

Later that night, their dormitory was completely silent and dark. The only light was an eerie green colour caused by the lake above them, but that hardly bothered him. His eyes had grown very well adjusted to the dark during his stint in Tartarus, and though he didn't enjoy it much, it came in handy every once and a while.

He changed quickly behind the curtains that he had drawn closed before he went to bed, replacing his ratty shirt and pyjama pants with the more familiar Camp Half-Blood shirt and jeans. He patted his pocket and neck, ensuring that Riptide and both his camp necklace and Epizon were secure before sheathing an extra knife on his thigh, grabbing his go-bag and leaving. Percy was a powerful demigod, to be sure. But what he was about to attempt was crazy, even for him. He wasn't sure where he'd end up, and in his experience, it was better to be overly prepared than dead.

He stopped and looked back in the doorway, making sure that everyone was still fast asleep and wouldn't notice his absence. He wasn't sure _what_ would happen if he got to camp, but looking at Draco and the other boys in his dorm, he knew he would try everything he could to get back.

With that thought in mind, he walked out completely, hiking his bag up on his shoulder and stepping out through the passageway and into the corridor. He didn't use any light as he made his way through the various passageways and corridors of the castle. He didn't need it. And even if he did, he knew the way to the lake by heart- he'd memorised it on his first night here.

The lake was where he was planning to leave from. Fresh water wasn't as good as salt water, but he would take anything he could get at this point. To mist travel over such a large distance was basically suicide, especially when he was as low on energy as he was. But there was nothing to be done. This was an emergency. He needed to get back to camp and explain everything before they sent out search parties and inadvertently revealed themselves. The meeting of these two worlds needed to be handled delicately. He was _not_ about to let this become another New Rome incident.

The lake was calm as it always was when he arrived. Below the surface, he could feel that it was teeming with life. But the creatures that lived there did not tend to look very kindly on the wizards, and so rarely came to the surface.

Taking one last precautionary look around, Percy waded into the lake up to his knees, revelling in the rush of energy he got at the contact with water despite the cold temperature. This jump was dangerous; he could fall short and end up unconscious in the middle of the Atlantic or any other location along the coast. But he _had_ to do it. He had no doubt the camp was capable of tracking him down, even in England. If they found him with the wizards and assumed him to be kidnapped, as they likely would, war could break out. And that was something neither side was ready for.

With a deep breath, Percy allowed himself to dissolve into mist. His consciousness moved quickly within the clouds, and soon the land below him fell away, leaving only the wide expanse of ocean as far as he could see in either direction. Mist travel was… hard to describe. He moved quickly through the atmosphere, and though he could still think, his body was gone, leaving him with only his powers as a guide. When he was in this form, they exploded. He could sense everything for miles around. But it was also a huge drain on his energy. He could feel it even now, the strain of travelling such a long distance in one go. But he couldn't stop. If he took a break halfway through, it would take too much time. He'd never be able to get there and back before anyone back at the castle noticed.

Land appeared as a smudge on the horizon, and he pushed everything he had into reaching it. If he fell short now, he'd be left in unfriendly territory and killed, too week from the travel to defend himself. And _that_ wouldn't help _anyone_.

—

Malcolm had to drag Annabeth out of the forest for dinner.

She hadn't come for lunch, and she'd only stopped in the pavilion for all of five minutes for what could be considered breakfast that morning. It had been this way for almost a week, and it was obvious she was burning herself out. He could understand her worry, though.

Percy was missing. Again.

Percy loved Annabeth. _Anybody_ could see that. They were _engaged_ for Zeus' sake! But despite that and his own friendship with the guy, he couldn't help but feel a bit pissed off. Being a demigod came with risks. That much was unavoidable. But it was like Percy went _looking_ for trouble. I mean, really. How much bad luck could one guy have?

"C'mon, Annabeth", he goaded somewhat impatiently, "We have to go or we'll miss dinner".

"But the dryads are supposed to give me a report tonight", she protested, "They said they would help. They _promised_ ".

"Their report won't have changed in the twenty minutes it will take you to get some food", he said gently, "Percy wouldn't want you to do this to yourself. He's strong. He'll be okay".

Annabeth sighed, the hardened expression falling from her face to be replaced by one of worry. "I know that. I _do_. It's just…there was a lamp broken in his apartment, knife marks in the wall. There were voices in the background of the Iris message he sent me, and he didn't leave behind _any_ of the signals we agreed on. There is something _wrong_ here, Malcolm. I can _feel_ it".

He pulled her into a hug, but she just sighed after a few moments and pulled away. "Dinner. And then I'm coming right back here to wait for my report", she said. Malcolm felt the sudden urge to snap into a salute and say _'Yes Ma'am!'_ , but he refrained. They weren't at war anymore, and it made him all the more upset for his sister that she had slipped so easily back into that mindset.

He nodded and followed her as she marched back towards the dining pavilion.

Annabeth wasn't the only one worried for Percy, and that was evident from the rather subdued buzz of conversation as they entered the pavilion rather than the usual roar. Jason stood up as she entered and everyone went quiet. "Any word?". She shook her head, and they looked at each other solemnly for a few moments.

"None of the water spirits have seen or heard anything. Thalia and her hunters have searched, but any trail they get disappears at Sally's apartment. I'm still waiting on a message from Grover, but… it's almost"—she took a deep breath, forcing her voice to remain steady and even—"It's almost as though he disappeared into thin air".

Jason fell back into his seat, dread filling him at those words. Those _same_ words that had started the Giant War with a swap of leaders. Something bad was coming, and if history had anything to say about it, this was just the beginning.

Malcolm returned to his seat with the rest of their siblings, and Annabeth grabbed a plate before making her way over to the fire and dumping the best parts into it. "Athena, Hermes, Poseidon", she muttered amidst her prayers. She stayed by the fire longer than typically necessary, praying under her breath, imploring the gods to _help_ her, to bring Percy back.

She waited for a few moments following the end of her prayer, but nothing happened. She sighed and returned to her table. Every night she prayed and every night she allowed her hopes to get up. And every night nothing happened. Her siblings tried their best to comfort her, regaling her with tales of their newest projects and ambitions. She nodded and tried to give her encouragement, but her heart wasn't in it.

Annabeth was at her wit's end. Everything that was happening reminded her far too much of the beginning of the last war. She couldn't survive something like that again. Not again.

She was just finishing her food and was readying herself to go back and talk with the dryads when it happened.

A fierce wind blew in off the ocean, closely followed by rather angry looking clouds. Annabeth immediately stood up in alarm, closely followed by Jason across the room. Normal weather skirted around camp, so any disturbance like this had to be non-mortal in origin. She looked at the son of Jupiter in question, but he just shook his head. Whatever was happening, it wasn't his fault.

Of all the buildings in Camp Half-Blood, the dining pavilion was the closest to the Sound. But even still, the fact that she could hear the waves on the beach was unusual and meant they were growing choppy and stormy, much like the clouds that had now moved to cover the entire camp.

Annabeth rested a hand on the hilt of her drakon bone sword, a cold feeling prickling on the back of her neck. She exchanged glances with the other cabin leaders, but before they could do anything, the wind came again, but stronger, and directly off the water of the Sound.

Sea mist sprayed her face, forcing her to turn slightly and cover her eyes with her forearm. A small whirlwind of water condensed at the center of the pavilion just in front of the main table. The water swirled, as though angry, for several long moments before dissipating, and leaving none other than her missing fiancé in its place.

"Oh, I made it. Love it when I do that", he said, swaying unsteadily on his feet before promptly collapsing.

The dining pavilion was enveloped in a shocked silence for all of one second before everything burst into motion.

"Will!", Annabeth called, but the medic was already in motion.

She joined him kneeling at his side, and together they flipped him over so that he was laying on his back. "Percy?", Will asked, feeling for a pulse, "C'mon, buddy, wake up". In the background, Annabeth faintly registered Jason sending a few of Will's siblings off to the infirmary for emergency supplies and a stretcher.

Will shook his head, his jaw set in determination, "His pulse is thready. Do you see any injuries?".

Annabeth scanned him quickly while Will gently pressed around his abdomen and torso feeling for internal bleeding. "No", she said, shaking her head. She was beginning to grow a bit frantic but had reigned it in for now. She would be no use to anyone if she couldn't think.

Will reached over and opened one of Percy's eyelids, holding a glowing fingertip in front of his eye to test its reaction to light. "Fine", he muttered, "Everything is fine, but his body's shutting down". His first to fingers flew to Percy's carotid again and he swore, pushing Annabeth back and away so that he could get in a better position. "There's nothing physically wrong with him", he said, explaining his thinking, "He must have overused his powers, drained all his energy. It's messed with the electrical activity of his heart".

"Everybody back!", Jason called from somewhere behind them, "Give him some room to work!".

Annabeth felt tears burning in her eyes as Will started chest compressions. She moved up by his head to stay out of his way, holding his face between her hands. "You do _not_ have permission to die, do you hear me, Perseus Jackson?!", she demanded, a traitorous tear making its way down her cheek.

Nico shadow traveled just next to Jason in a panic. "What's going on?", he demanded, eyes deadly serious. He had felt Percy's life force wavering from where he had been visiting Hazel in New Rome and had come immediately.

"I don't know", Jason replied grimly, "Keep them calm. I'm going to go see what I can do to help". He nodded and Jason ran to Percy's side, directly across from Will.

"How can I help?". Will glanced up at him, now breathing quite hard.

"Something's disrupted the electrical signals of his heart", he panted, "I'm beating it for him for now, but I can't do this forever".

"How do we get it started again?", Annabeth asked from her position by his head. Even crying, the look in her eyes was fierce.

"We need something to shock it back into its normal rhythm", Will said, shooting a pointed look at Jason before focusing back in on what he was doing.

Jason's eyes widened in alarm. "I can't do that. What if I hurt him!", he protested.

"He's already dead!", Will snapped, "If you don't do this now, he'll stay that way. We have a defibrillator in the infirmary, but if we leave him like this much longer, he'll have brain damage. We _need_ you to do this Jason!".

"Please", Annabeth asked softly.

Jason's eyes hardened and he nodded swiftly, gesturing for Will to move. He rubbed his hands together until they sparked and made brief eye contact with Annabeth, "Watch out!". Will jumped away seconds before Jason's hands made contact with Percy's chest. His entire body jerked with the shock, and for a brief moment, nothing happened.

Then he jerked back to life with a gasp, rolling over onto his side and coughing. His mechanical arm felt like dead weight at his side, but he had little time to think about that before Annabeth all but tackled him. He hissed, bringing his good hand to his chest in pain and collapsing back into his previous position on the ground. Though this time, thankfully very much alive.

"Gods", he gasped, turning to look at Jason with a tired grin, "I think you just shorted out my arm".

Jason stared at him a moment before bursting out laughing, relief flooding through him. "Yeah? Well I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't tried to die on us".

Percy's grin took on a more strained quality to it, "No promises".

"Don't you dare", a shaky voice whispered, but it cut off their joking immediately. Percy turned to look at Annabeth, frowning at the tears that were spilling from her eyes, "Don't you ever do that to me again, Percy Jackson!", she yelled, hitting him in the arm as hard as she could.

Will made a sort of odd squawking sound out of concern for his patient from where he was still kneeling off to the side, but Annabeth was on a roll.

"What on Gaea possessed you?! You promised! You promised never again, but then you go and do _this_! Your heart _stopped_ , Percy! You were _dead_ ".

"Hey, hey, hey", he said gently, reaching up to cup her cheek with his functioning hand. She leaned into his touch, and the knowledge that her tears were for him broke his heart. "You're right, I did promise. And I would _never_ break it. Not to you". He reached for her hand and brought it to his chest, placing it over his heart. "See. Still beating. I'm still here". She hit him one last time, but the anger behind it was gone.

"Don't you _ever_ ", she started, and he nodded.

"I know".

She smiled shakily and leaned down to kiss him, only breaking away again when the stretcher bearers arrived.

"Make a gap!".

Percy smiled at her one last time before catching sight of the stretcher behind her and rolling his eyes. "Is this really necessary? I'm _fine_ ".

"You are most certainly _not_ fine", Will cut in, glaring, "Under _no_ circumstances will you be walking _anywhere_ until I give you a full workup".

Percy huffed, but didn't complain again, knowing it was pointless.

"Alright, alright. I think that's enough excitement for one night!", Chiron called over the building ruckus, "Percy, it's good to have to back, my boy. Now off to bed, the lot of you!".

There was some general groaning and protests with a few called well-wishes, but eventually the crowd dispersed.

"I think you owe us an explanation, Percy", Chiron said, looking at him critically once everyone had gone, "But first, rest. Go. We will talk later". Percy gave a lazy salute with his working arm, already growing drowsy from some sort of draught Will's siblings had forced him to drink.

"You got it, horse-man". Chiron gave a long-suffering sigh but didn't comment any further than that, proof in and of itself of how relieved he was.

"Nice job, doc", Percy continued drunkenly as they carried him away, "Though I think you broke a rib or three".

Annabeth couldn't hear his reply from where she stood next to Chiron. "Go with them, my girl", he said, staring after them worriedly, "This isn't over".

She frowned but dutifully jogged over to catch up. She was worried, but not surprised. Knowing Percy, it was never just _over_. And this was no exception.


End file.
